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International Library of Psychology
Philosophy and Scientific Method

Plato’s Cosmology

International Library of Psychology
Philosophy and Scientific Method

General Editor: C. K. OGDEN, M.A.

Philosophical Studies
Tax Misuse of Mind .

Conflict and Dream* .

TRactatus Looico-Philosophicus
Psychological Types*

Scientific Thought* .

The Meaning of Meaning .

Individual Psychology
Speculations (Preface by Jacob Epstein)

The Psychology of Reasoning*

The Philosophy of “ As If **

The Nature of Intelligence
Telepathy and Clairvoyance
The Growth of the Mind .

The Mentality of Apes
Psychology of Religious Mysticism
The Philosophy of Music .

The Psychology of a Musical Prodigy
Principles of Literary Criticism
Metaphysical Foundations of Science
Thought and the Brain* .

Physique and Character* .

Psychology of Emotion
Problems of Personality .

The History of Materialism
Personality*

Educational Psychology
Language and Thought of the Child
Sex and Repression in Savage Society*
Comparative Philosophy
Social Life in the Animal World
How Animals Find their Way About
The Social Insects ....

Theoretical Biology ....

Possibility ......

The Technique of Controversy.

The Symbolic Process
Political Pluralism ....

History of Chinese Political Thought
Integrative Psychology* .

The Analysis of Matter
Plato’s Theory of Ethics .

Historical Introduction to Modern Psych<
Creative Imagination ....

Colour and Colour Theories

Biological Principles

The Trauma of Birth

The Statistical Method in Economics

The Art of Interrogation

The Growth of Reason

Human Speech .....

Foundations of Geometry and Induction
The Laws of Feeling
The Mental Development of the Child
Eidetic Imagery .....

The Concentric Method
The Foundations of Mathematics
The Philosophy of the Unconscious .
Outlines of Greek Philosophy .

The Psychology of Children’s Drawings
Invention and the Unconscious
The Theory of Legislation
The Social Life of Monkeys
The Development of the Sexual Impulses
Constitution Types in Delinquency .
Sciences of Man in the Making
Ethical Relativity ....

The Gestalt Theory ....

The Psychology of Consciousness
The Spirit of Language
The Dynamics of Education
The Nature of Learning
The Individual and the Community .
Crime, Law, and Social Science
Dynamic Social Research .

Speech Disorders ....

The Nature of Mathematics

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Plato’s Theory of Knowledge* . by F. M. Cohn ford

Infant Speech . . . . . by M. M. Lewis

Ideology and Utopia by Karl Mannheim

An Examination of Logical Positivism by J. R. Weinberg

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ARMILLARY SPHERE

The globe at the centre, representing the Earth, is inscribed: Globe Ierrestre.
A Paris, chez Delarnarche Geog. rue du Eoin Jacques au College dc

Me Gervais

front ispia e

PLATO’S COSMOLOGY

The Timaeus of Plato translated
with a running commentary

FRANCIS MACDONALD CORNFORD

Laurence Professor of Ancient Philosophy and Fellow
of Trinity College in the University of Cambridge

LONDON

KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER & CO. LTD.
NEW YORK: HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY

1937

Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London

ELEANOR MEREDITH

COBHAM

rj tclOtcI re ao<f> rj icrrt kcll <xAAa rroXXa.

PREFACE

This book is constructed on the same plan as an earlier volume
in the series, Plato’s Theory of Knowledge. It contains a translation
of the Timaeus interspersed with a commentary discussing each
problem of interpretation — and there are many hitherto unsolved
— as it arises. My first aim has been to render Plato's words as
closely as I can. Anyone who attempts to reproduce his exalted
poetical style must face the certainty of failure, with the added
risk of falsifying the sense, especially by misleading reminiscences
of the English Bible. The commentary is designed to guide the
reader through a long and intricate argument and to explain what
must remain obscure in the most faithful translation ; for the
Timaeus covers an immense field at the cost of compressing the
thought into the smallest space. Only with some such aid can
students of theology and philosophy have access to a document
which has deeply influenced mediaeval and modem speculation.
I have tried not to confuse the interpretation of the text with the
construction of theories of wider scope. The later Platonism is a
subject on which agreement may never be reached ; but there is
some hope of persuading scholars that a Greek sentence means one
thing rather than another.

The translation follows Burnet's text, except where I have given
reasons for departing from it or proposed corrections of passages
that are probably or certainly corrupt. For the interpretation I
have consulted, in the first instance, the commentaries of Proclus
and Chalcidius, the fragment of Galen's commentary lately re-edited
by Schroder, the relevant treatises of Plutarch, and Theon of
Smyrna, who preserves valuable extracts from Dercylides and
Adrastus. The careful summary of the Timaeus in the Didascalicus
of the Middle Platonist Albinus deserves more attention than it
receives. Among the modems I have drawn freely upon Martin's
admirable Etudes sur le Timee de Platon , Archer-Hind's com-
mentary, and the translations of Apelt, Fraccaroli, Rivaud, and
Professor A. E. Taylor.1

More useful than any of these has been Professor Taylor's

1 I regret that I did not learn that Mr. R. G. Bury’s translation had
appeared untU it was too late to make use of it.

vii

PREFACE

Commentary. His wide learning and untiring industry have
amassed a great quantity of illustrative material, and he has
cleared up the meaning of many sentences hitherto misunderstood.
These amendments will pass into the common stock of future
editors and translators, and I have for the most part adopted
them tacitly. It is unfortunate that I should so often have had
to quote his views where it was necessary to give reasons for dissent.
My notes, accordingly, do not indicate the extent of a debt which
I here acknowledge with gratitude.

On many of the larger questions of interpretation, however, I
differ widely from Professor Taylor. He has launched in this
volume a new Taylorian heresy. After confounding the persons
of Socrates and Plato in earlier books, he has now divided the
substance of Plato and Timaeus. All the ancient Platonists from
Aristotle to Simplicius and all mediaeval and modem scholars to
our own day have assumed that this dialogue contains the mature
doctrine of its author. Professor Taylor holds that they have been
mistaken. He writes :

‘ It is in fact the main thesis of the present interpretation that
the teaching of Timaeus can be shown to be in detail exactly
what we should expect in a fifth-century Italian Pythagorean
who was also a medical man, that it is, in fact, a deliberate
attempt to amalgamate Pythagorean religion and mathematics
with Empedoclean biology, and thus correctly represents the
same tendency in fifth-century thought for which the name, e.g.
of Philolaus stands in the history of philosophy. If this view
is sound, it follows that it is a mistake to look in the Timaeus
for any revelation of the distinctively Platonic doctrines, the
Idia IJAdtcovog as Aristotle calls them (Met. A. 987a, 31), by which
Platonism is discriminated from Pythagoreanism, or for a 4 later
Platonic theory * which can be set in opposition to the type of
doctrine expounded in the Phaedo. I shall set myself in com-
menting on the relevant passages to argue in detail that we do
not, in fact, find any of the doctrines Aristotle thought distinctive
of Plato taught in the Timaeus or in any other dialogue. But,
on the other hand, what the Timaeus loses, if my view is a sound
one, as an exposition of Platonism it gains as a source of light
on fifth-century Pythagoreanism. If I am interpreting it on
right lines, it is incomparably the most important document we
possess for the history of early Greek scientific thought.*

Further on, Professor Taylor describes Plato's plan in more
detail. ‘ The formula for the physics and physiology of the dialogue
is that it is an attempt to graft Empedoclean biology on the stock

viii

PREFACE

of Pythagorean mathematics ' (p. 18). This fusion, he adds, could
not be completely carried out. There were incongruities which
lead Timaeus * into a variety of real inconsistencies which culminate
in an absolutely unqualified contradiction between a medical or
physiological " determinism ” (Tim, 86B-87B) and a religious and
ethical doctrine of human “ freedom ” \ which is undoubtedly
Pythagorean.

‘ Plato repeatedly warns us in this very dialogue that cosmology
and physical science in general can never be more than “ pro-
visional It is at best made up of tales “ like the truth ”.
Hence Plato was not likely to feel himself responsible for the
details of any of his speaker’s theories. All that is required by
his own principles is that they shall be more or less “ like ” the
truth, i.e. that they shall be the best approximations to it which
could be expected from a geometer-biologist of the fifth century.
In other words, we are entitled to say that Plato thought the
view which arose from the fusion of Pythagoras with Empedocles
the most promising line in fifth-century science and the one
most directly connected with his own developments. It does not
follow that any theory propounded by Timaeus would have been
accepted by Plato as it stands. The way in which Timaeus is
made at each chief new step in his narrative to insist on the
highly provisional character of his speculations is a most signi-
ficant feature of the dialogue, to which no one as yet seems to
have done full justice. What Plato himself really thought about
a good deal of Empedocles has to be learned not from our dialogue
but from Laws x, where Empedocles more than anyone else is
plainly aimed at in the exposure of the defects of “ naturalism ” ’
(pP. 18-19).

According to this theory, then, Plato, having occasion to give
an account of the nature of the visible world, concocted an amalgam
of two philosophies belonging to the previous century, although he
knew them to be incompatible and largely disapproved of one of
them. All he wanted was something ‘ like the truth What he
actually produced was not a picture that he himself could accept
as more like the truth than any other, but the best that could be
expected from an imaginary eclectic, of two or three generations
earlier, attempting to combine irreconcilables.

I cannot think that this theory will be accepted. The improb-
ability is so great that overwhelming proof must be required.
The evidence, if it existed, could hardly have been overlooked by
all those ancient authorities whose knowledge of Platonism and
its antecedents was far greater than any we can ever hope to possess.

PREFACE

Professor Taylor rightly insists that the student should know
what the men who had heard Plato's doctrines from his own lips
or from his immediate disciples supposed him to mean ; and how
he was understood by men of real learning like Posidonius, Plutarch,
and Atticus, and even later by men versed in the earlier literature
like Plotinus and Proclus. The chief value of his own commentary
lies in the exhaustive summaries of these ancient opinions. But
if his theory is sound, how is it that not one of them furnishes a
single unambiguous statement to the effect that the doctrines of
the Titnaeus are not Plato's own ? Aristotle was living and
working with Plato when the dialogue was written. Why does he
never use the Timaeus as ' a source of light on fifth-century Pytha-
goreanism * or refer to it as ‘ a document for the history of early
Greek scientific thought ', a subject in which he was much
interested ? How is it that Theophrastus (as Professor Taylor
remarks, p. i) ‘ treats the whole account of the sensible qualities
given in our dialogue as the views of Plato ', without a hint that
they are really no more than the best that could be expected from
a geometer-biologist of the previous century ? From all that we
know of Theophrastus' History of Physical Opinions it is clear
that he used the Timaeus as his main source for Plato's physical
doctrine. Aristotle and Theophrastus must have known the true
character of the work. Both wrote at length on the history of
philosophy. Neither left on record so much as a suspicion that
Plato was really fabricating a medley of obsolete theories for which
he acknowledged no responsibility. Had such a suspicion been
expressed in any of their works now lost to us, it could not have
escaped the notice of the later ancient commentators, who studied
the Timaeus line by line and sought for light upon its meaning in
every available quarter. The discovery would then have robbed
the dialogue of all authority. Not only would it have lost its
value as an expression of Plato’s mind, but to the ancients it would
have been useless as a record of fifth-century speculation. Possess-
ing the original documents on which it was based, they would
have contemplated with more amazement than interest the
ingenuity spent in conjuring out of them an incoherent system
which nobody had ever held.

It is hard to understand how anyone acquainted with the litera-
ture and art of the classical period can imagine that the greatest
philosopher of that period, at the height of his powers, could have
wasted his time on so frivolous and futile an exercise in pastiche.
What could have been his motive ? Nowhere, in all his seven
hundred pages, has Professor Taylor really faced this question ;
yet it surely calls for an answer. When an archaeologist unearths

PREFACE

a temple in a sixth-century style of architecture, it never occurs
to him to doubt whether the sculpture may not be the work of
Praxiteles or Scopas, deliberately faking an archaic manner. He
knows that such things were not done till the blaze of creative
genius had died down ; the foundations of Wardour Street were
laid in Alexandria. Yet such a supposition would be every whit
as probable as Professor Taylor's thesis.

The reader who does not accept that thesis will find himself
somewhat bewildered by attempts to prove that Timaeus says one
thing while Plato believes another. There are two other tendencies,
running through the whole commentary, which seem to me to
distort the picture. One is the suggestion that Plato (or Timaeus ?)
is at heart a monotheist and not far from being a Christian.1 The
Demiurge is not fully recognised as a mythical figure, but credited
with attributes belonging to the Creator of Genesis or even to the
God of the New Testament. Another is the practice of translating
Plato's words into the terms of Professor Whitehead's philosophy.
That philosophy could not have existed before the Theory of
Relativity ; and its author, having very unfamiliar ideas to express,
uses common words in senses so peculiar and esoteric that no one
can follow him without a glossary. Consider the following defini-
tions of an ‘ occasion ' and an ‘ event ' :

f Each monadic creature is a mode of the process of " feeling "
the world, of housing the world in one unit of complex feeling,
in every way determinate. Such a unit is an “ actual occasion " ;
it is the ultimate creature derivative from the creative process.
The term “ event " is used in a more general sense. An event
is a nexus of actual occasions inter-related in some determinate
fashion in some extensive quantum : it is either a nexus in its
formal completeness, or it is an objectified nexus. One actual
occasion is a limiting type of event. The most general sense
of the meaning of change is “ the differences between actual
occasions in one event For example, a molecule is a his-
toric route of actual occasions ; and such a route is an “ event ".
Now the motion of the molecule is nothing else than the dif-
ferences between the successive occasions of its life-history in
respect to the extensive quanta from which they arise ; and the
changes in the molecule are the consequential differences in the
actual occasions ' ( Process and Reality , pp. m-12).

It is true that Professor Whitehead has been profoundly influenced
hy Jowett's translation, and that his eternal objects have a definite
affinity to Plato’s eternal Forms. But there is more of Plato in the
1 Examples will be found in the notes on 29D-30C and 69c, 3.

PREFACE

Adventures of Ideas than there is of Whitehead in the Timaeus.
The modem reader is likely to be misled by the constant use of
Whitehead's ' event ' as equivalent to Plato's yiyvofievov. More-
over, Plato expressly declares that his Forms ‘ never enter into
anything else anywhere ' (52A) — a cardinal point of difference
between himself and Aristotle. Yet Professor Taylor writes :
‘ydveoig ... is, in fact, the “ ingredience of objects into events ",
by which the “ passage " of nature is constituted. . . . The famous
Forms ... are what Whitehead calls “ objects ", and the point
of insistence upon their reality is that Nature is not made up of
the mere succession of events, that the passage of nature is a
process of “ ingredience " of objects into events ' (p. 131). Accord-
ing to Professor Taylor's main thesis, the philosophy of our dialogue
belongs to a period which already seemed archaic to Aristotle : he
regularly speaks of the fifth-century thinkers as ‘ the primitives '
(ol dgxaioi). Even if we restore this philosophy to Plato, it cannot
usefully be paraphrased in terms which have first acquired their
technical meaning in our own life-time. It is puzzling to find the
contents of Timaeus' discourse represented at one moment as more
antique than Plato and at the next as more modern (and consider-
ably more Christian) than Herbert Spencer. Accordingly, while
every student must acknowledge a great debt to Professor Taylor's
researches, there is still room for a commentary based on the
traditional assumptions and attempting to illustrate Plato's thought
in the historical setting of Plato's century.

Friends and colleagues have generously helped me with their
advice on matters in which I needed a judgment more competent
than my own. Sir Thomas Heath, whose masterly works on Greek
mathematics I have constantly consulted and never in vain, has
written long and careful answers to my inquiries. Professor
Onians has allowed me to use freely the proofs of his valuable
book. The Origins of Greek and Roman Thought. I am also specially
indebted to Dr. W. H. S. Jones, Professor D. S. Robertson, Mr. R. P.
Winnington-Ingram, and Mr. R. Hackforth. The late Professor
H. S. Foxwell kindly gave me permission to reproduce the photo-
graph of the Armillary Sphere in his possession. Dr. R. T.
Gunther tells me its probable date is about 1780-1820. In 1790
C. F. Delamarche published Les usages de la Sphere et des Globes
celeste et terrestre , selon les hypotheses de Ptolemee et de Copernic,
accompagnees de figures analogues .

Cambridge

1937

F. M. C.

A.-H.

Albinus

Apelt

Chalcidius

Fraccaroli

Pr.

Rivaud

Theon

Tr.

LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS

= Archer-Hind, R.D. The Timaeus of Plato, London, 1888.

= *Ahav6ov (sic) didaaxahixdg rcbv IIMtcdvoq doy/idvcov, ed.
Hermann, Platonis Dialogi, Lipsiae, 1892, vi, pp. 152 ff.

= Platon’s Dialoge Timaios und Kritias ubersetzt und
erlautert von O. Apelt, Leipzig, 1922.

= Platonis Timaeus interprete Chalcidio cum eiusdem com-
mentario, ed. J. Wrobel, Lipsiae, mdccclxxvi.

= II Timeo trad, da Giuseppe Fraccaroli, Torino, 1906.

= Procli Diodochi in Platonis Timaeum commentaria, ed.
E. Diehl, Lipsiae, mcmvi.

— Platon, Tome x, Tim£e, Critias, texte 6tabli et traduit
par Albert Rivaud, Paris, 1925.

Theon of Smyrna, rcov xar& to /nadrjjuarixdv xQyofatov
r ip nXdxcovot; avdyvcocnv, ed. Dupuis, Paris, 1892.

Taylor, A. E., A Commentary on Plato’s Timaeus,
Oxford, 1928.

xiii

TABLE OF CONTENTS

MARGINAL

PAGE

I7A-27B.

27C-29D.

29D-3OC.

3OC-3IA.

3IA-B.

3IB-32C.

32C-33B.

33B-34A.

34A-B.

34B-C.

35A.

35b“36b.

36B-D.

36D-E.

36»e-37C.

37C-38C.

P.C.

Preface

List of Abbreviations
Introduction

THE TIMAEUS

Introductory Conversation ....

THE DISCOURSE OF TIMAEUS
Prelude. The nature and scope of Physics .

(1) Being and Becoming

(2) The Cause of Becoming

(3) Model and copy

Physics only a ‘ likely story 1 .

I. The Works of Reason

The motive of creation

The Demiurge

The creator’s model

The intelligible Living Creature ....

One world, not many

The Body of the World
Why this consists of four primary bodies
The world’s body contains the whole of all the four

primary bodies

It is a sphere, without organs or limbs, rotating on

its axis

The World-Soul . . . .

Summary. Transition to the World-Soul

Soul is prior to body

Composition of the World-Soul ....
Division of the World-Soul into harmonic intervals .
Construction of the circles of the Same and the
Different and the planetary circles
The world’s body fitted to its soul
Discourse in the World-Soul .

Time, the moving likeness of Eternity .

PAGE

vii

xiii

59
66

94
97

CONTENTS

MARGINAL

PAGE PAGE

380-39E. The Planets as instruments of Time . . . 105

39E-40B. The four kinds of living creature. The heavenly gods 117
40B-C. . Rotation of the Earth ...... 120

40c— d. The further movements of the heavenly bodies are

too complicated for description here . . . 135

Table of Celestial motions . . .136

The Human Soul and Body

40D-41A. The traditional gods . . . . . .137

41A-D. The address to the gods 139

41D-42D. The composition of human souls. The Laws of

Destiny ........ 142

42D-B. Human souls sown in Earth and the planets . .146

42E-44D. The condition of the soul when newly incarnated . 147
44D-45B. Structure of the human body : head and limbs . 150
45B-46A. The eyes and the mechanism of vision . . *151

46A-C. Mirror images . . . . . . .154

46C-47E. Accessory causes contrasted with the purpose of sight

and hearing . . . . . . .156

II. What comes about of Necessity

47E-48E. Necessity. The Errant Cause . . . .160

Reason and Necessity . . . . . .162

48E-49A. The Receptacle of Becoming . . . 177

49A-50A. Fire, Air, etc., are names of qualities, not of substances 178
50A-C. The Receptacle compared to a mass of plastic material 181
500-5 ib. The Receptacle has no qualities of its own . .185

51B-E. Ideal models of Fire, Air, Water, Earth . .188

51E-52D. Summary description of the three factors : Form,

Copy, and Space as the Receptacle . . .191

52D-53C. Description of Chaos 197

53c~55c* Construction of the figures of the four primary bodies. 210
55C-D. Might there be five worlds ? . . . . .219

SSD-SGc. Assignment of the regular figures to the four primary

bodies ........ 222

560-570 Transformation of the primary bodies . . . 224

57C-D. Each primary body exists in various grades of size . 230

5715-580 Motion and Rest ....... 239

580-610 Varieties and compounds of the primary bodies . 246

Water, liquid and fusible : melting and cooling of the
fusible ........ 247

Some varieties of the fusible type (metals) : gold,
adamant, copper ...... 250

Solidification of fluids : water, hail, ice, snow, hoarfrost 252
Some varieties of the liquid type : juices . . 254

Varieties and compounds of earth : stone and earthen-

ware, soda and salt ; glass and wax . . . 255

xvi

CONTENTS

MARGINAL

PAGE

6IC-64A.

Tactile qualities, as they appear to sensation and

258

perception .......

64A-65B.

Pleasure and Pain ......

266

65B-66C.

' Tastes .........

269

66D-67A.

Odours ........

272

67A-C.

Sounds. ........

275

67C-68D.

Colours ........

276

68E-69A.

Conclusion ........

279

III. The Co-operation of Reason and Necessity

69A-D.

Recapitulation. Addition of the mortal parts of Soul

279

69D-72D.

The bodily seats of the two mortal parts of the soul .
Two groups of organs corresponding to the two mortal

281

parts of the soul ......

282

The Spirited part situated in the heart. The lungs
The Appetitive part situated in the belly. The liver

282

and the spleen .......

286

72D-73A.

Summary and transition to the rest of the body .

290

73B-76E.

The main structure of the human frame

291

The marrow, seed, and brain ....

293

Bone, flesh, sinews ......

295

The uneven distribution of flesh ....

297

Skin, hair, nails .......

299

76E-77C.

Plants .........

302

77C-E. '

Irrigation system to convey nourishment. The two

principal veins .......

303

77E-79A.

Respiration as the driving power of the irrigation

system ........

306

79A-E.

Respiration maintained by the circular thrust

3i5

79E-80C.

Digression. Other phenomena explained by the

circular thrust .......

3i9

Concord of musical sounds .....

320

8od-8ie.

How blood is formed by digestion and conveyed
through the veins. Growth and decay. Natural

death ........

327

Hydraulics of the irrigation system

330

8ie-86a.

Diseases of the body ......

(1) Diseases due to excess or defect or misplacement

332

of the primary bodies ....

334

(2) Diseases of the (secondary) tissues

(3) Diseases due to (a) breath, ( b ) phlegm, (c) bile.

335

Fevers .......

xvii

340

CONTENTS

MARGINAL

PAGE

86B-87B.

Disease in the soul due to defective bodily constitution

and to bad nurture

343

87B-89D.

Disproportion between soul and body, to be remedied

by regimen and exercise .....

349

89D-9OD.

Care of the soul

352

90E-92C.

The differentiation of the sexes. The lower animals .

355

92C.

Conclusion . . . . . .

358

Epilogue ' .

361

Appendix ........

365

Index

373

XVUl

INTRODUCTION

The Timaeus belongs to the latest group of Plato’s works : Sophist
and Statesman , Timaeus and Critias, Philebus, Laws . The whole
group must fall within the last twenty years of his life, which
ended in 347 B.c. at the age of eighty or eighty-one. The Laws
is the only dialogue that is certainly later than the Timaeus and
Critias . It is probable, then, that Plato was nearer seventy than
sixty when he projected the trilogy, Timaeus , Critias , Hermocrates
— the most ambitious design he had ever conceived. Too ambitious,
it would seem ; for he abandoned it when he was less than half-
way through. The Critias breaks off in an unfinished sentence ;
the Hermocrates was never written. Only the Timaeus is complete ;
but its introductory part affords some ground for a conjectural
reconstruction of the whole plan.

The conversation in this dialogue and its sequel is supposed to
take place at Athens on the day of the Panathenaea. We are to
imagine that, on the previous day, Socrates has been discoursing
to Critias, his two guests from Italy and Sicily, Timaeus of Locri
and Hermocrates of Syracuse, and a fourth unnamed person who
is to-day absent through indisposition. The Panathenaic festival
would provide an obvious occasion for the strangers’ presence in
Athens, as it does for the visit of Parmenides and Zeno in another
of the late dialogues.1

^he Athenian Critias is an old man, who finds it easier to remem-
ber the long-distant past than what happened yesterday, and
speaks of his boyhood as ‘ very long ago ’, when the poems of
Solon could be described as a novelty. He cannot, therefore, be
the Critias who was Plato’s mother’s cousin and one of the

Thirty Tyrants. He must be the grandfather of that Critias

and Plato’s great-grandfather.2 He tells us that he was eighty

1 Farm. 127D. The comparison is made by Pr. i, 84. That * the festival

of the goddess ’ (Athena) mentioned at 21 a and 26E is the Panathenaea is ^

clear from the context in both places and would never have been doubted ■£*

but for the unfounded notion that Socrates is supposed to have narrated of
on the previous day the whole of the Republic, or a substantial part of it, ^
as it stands in our texts. This will be considered below. ^

2 See Burnet, Gk. Phil, i, 338, and Appendix. Tr., p. 23. Diehl, P.-W.^

Real-Encycl.t s.v. Kritias. p

INTRODUCTION

years younger than his own grandfather, the Critias who was
Solon’s friend.

Hermocrates, according to Proclus (on 20A) and modem scholars,
is the Syracusan who defeated the Athenian expedition to Sicily in
Plato’s childhood (41 5-413 b.c.). Thucydides (vi, 72) describes
him as a man of outstanding intelligence, conspicuous bravery, and
great military' experience. At his first appearance in the History
(iv, 58) he delivers a wise speech at a conference of Sicilian states,
advising them to make peace among themselves and warning them
of the danger of Athenian aggression. Evidently at that date
(424 b.c.) he was already a prominent figure in Sicilian politics.
After the defeat of the Athenian expedition he was banished by the
democratic party. He lost his life in an attempt to reinstate him-
self by force, probably in 407 b.c. In the present gathering of
philosophers and statesmen he is pre-eminently the man of action.
Since the dialogue that was to bear his name was never written,
we can only guess why Plato chose him. It is curious to reflect
that, while Critias is to recount how the prehistoric Athens of nine
thousand years ago had repelled the invasion from Atlantis and
saved'the Mediterranean peoples from slavery, Hermocrates would be
remembered by the Athenians as the man who had repulsed their
own greatest effort at imperialist expansion. He had also attempted
to reform from within his native city, Syracuse, the scene of Plato's
own abortive essays towards the reconstruction of existing society.

There is no evidence for the historic existence of Timaeus of
Locri. If he did exist, we know nothing whatever about him
beyond Socrates' description of him as a man well-born and rich,
who had held the highest offices at Locri and become eminent in
philosophy (20A), and Critias' remark that Timaeus was the best
astronomer in the party and had made a special study of the nature
of the universe. This is consistent with his being a man in middle
life, contemporary with Hermocrates.1 The very fact that a man

1 1 cannot follow Tr.’s inference from Socrates’ words that ‘ we cannot
imagine him (Timaeus) to be less than seventy and he may be decidedly
older * (p. 17). Sir Arthur Eddington and Professor Dirac were both elected
into chairs of mathematics at Cambridge in or about their thirtieth years.
In the fifth century b.c. a man of that age might easily have read everything
written in Greek on physics and mathematics. Nor did the Greeks wait till
a man was nearing seventy before electing him to the highest offices. Tr.
also says (p. 49) that ‘ the youth of Hermocrates explains why he remains
silent throughout the dialogue. Proclus saw that his silence is significant,
but did not interpret it correctly/ But Hermocrates does make a not
unimportant contribution to the conversation on the only occasion offered
him (20c), a fact on which Pr. comments. He also speaks in the introductory
conversation of the Critias (io8b) in terms which, with other passages, make
it clear that he was to take the leading part in the third dialogue of the trilogy.

INTRODUCTION

of such distinction has left not the faintest trace in political or
philosophic history is against his claim to be a real person. The
probability is that Plato invented him because he required a philo-
sopher of the Western school, eminent both in science and states-
manship, and there was no one to fill the part at the imaginary
time of the dialogue. Archytas was of the type required,1 a brilliant
mathematician and seven times strategics at Tarentum ; but he
lived too late : Plato first met him about 388 b.c. In the first
century a.d. a treatise On the Soul of the World and Nature was
forged in the name of Timaeus of Locri. It was taken by the
Neoplatonists for a genuine document, whereas it is now seen to
be a mere summary of the Timaeus . In our dialogue, as Wilamo-
witz observes ( Platon i, 591), Timaeus speaks dogmatically, but
without any appeal to authority, and we may regard his doctrine
simply as Plato’s own. So in the Sophist Plato speaks through
the mouth of an Eleatic, who is yet not a champion of Parmenides’
system, but holds a theory of Forms unquestionably Platonic.
Plato nowhere says that Timaeus is a Pythagorean. He some-
times follows Empedocles, sometimes Parmenides ; indeed he
borrows something from every pre-Socratic philosopher of import-
ance, not to mention Plato’s contemporaries. Much of the doctrine
is no doubt Pythagorean ; and this gave the satirist Timon a handle
for his spiteful accusation of plagiarism against Plato. When the
treatise ascribed to Timaeus had been forged, it was assumed that
this was the book from which Plato had copied (Pr. i, 1 and 7). 2
As a consequence, all the doctrines which the forger had found in
the Timaeus itself were supposed to be of Pythagorean origin. The
testimony of later commentators is vitiated by this false assumption.

There is no ground for any conjecture as to the identity of the
fourth person, who is absent. The only sensible remark recorded
by Proclus is the observation of Atticus that he is presumably
another visitor from Italy or Sicily, since Socrates asks Timaeus
for news of him (Pr. i, 20). Plato may have wished to keep open
the possibility of extending his trilogy to a fourth dialogue and
held this unnamed person in reserve.3 Socrates proposes that the
three who are present (not Timaeus alone) shall undertake the
whole task which the four were to have scared. He first recapitu-
lates his own discourse of the previous day. Socrates, we are told,
had been describing the institutions of a city on the lines of the
Republic, He had ended by expressing his wish to see this city
transferred from the plane of theory to temporal fact. He now

1 As Frank observes, Plato und d. sog. Pythagoreer, 129,

2 For the history of this document, see Tr., p. 39, /

3 So Ritter, N. Unt., 181. /

INTRODUCTION

gives a summary of his own discourse, in response to Timaeus’
request to be reminded of the task to be performed by himself and
his friends. Later (20c) it appears that such a reminder was really
unnecessary, since the three have talked over the task required of
them and have come prepared with a plan for its fulfilment. The
summary is, in fact, entirely for the sake of informing the reader
of Plato's design to identify the citizens of the ideal state with the
prehistoric Athenians of Critias’ romance.

From ancient times to the present day many false inferences
and theories have been founded on the situation imagined by Plato,
in spite of his own clear indication conveyed in the statement that
the summary actually given is complete : nothing of importance
has been omitted (19A, b). Plato could not have stated more plainly
that Socrates is not to be supposed to have narrated the whole
conversation in the Republic as we have it. It follows at once
that he did not intend the Republic to stand as the first dialogue
in his new series.1 If he had, no recapitulation would have been
needed ; the stage should have been set in an introduction to the
Republic itself. But some scholars have seen evidence here for an
original edition of the Republic, containing only the parts sum-
marised. Such speculations are baseless. The summary is con-
fined to the external institutions of the state outlined in Republic ii,
369-v, 471. It is impossible to imagine an edition of the dialogue
omitting the whole of the analogy between the structure of the
soul and that of the state, the analysis of the individual soul into
three parts, and the discussion of the virtues of the individual and
of the state ; nor could the omission of these topics in the summary
be called a matter of no importance. The simple and natural
conclusion was drawn long ago by Hirzel.2 No doubt Plato was
thinking of the contents of that part of the Republic and intending
his readers to recall them ; but he was not the slave of his own
fictions. There was nothing to prevent him from imagining
Socrates describing his ideal state on more than one occasion.
He tells us here that Socrates has outlined its institutions, and
nothing more, on the previous day. That day, moreover, was not
the day after the feast of Bendis (Thargelion 19 or 20), when the
conversation with Glaucon and Adeimantus at the house of Cephalus
took place, though nothing would have been easier than to mention
that date if Plato had meant to identify Socrates' discourse with

1 As Pr., for example, imagined (i, 8). In consequence, he and other
critics were puzzled how to explain why the Republic was to precede the
Timaeus, and not follow it, as it obviously should (i, 200 ff.).

8 Der Dialog. (1895), h 257. So Ritter, N. Unt. 177, and Friedlander,
Plat. Schr. 600. Cf. also Rivaud, Timie, p. 19.

INTRODUCTION

the narration of the Republic . The present occasion is ' the festival
of Athena and one to which the projected discourse of Critias is
appropriate. As Proclus remarks (i, 172), the Panathenaic dis-
courses regularly celebrated the Athenian victories by land and
sea in the Persian Wars, while Critias celebrates Athens by recount-
ing her victory over the invaders from Atlantis. Proclus himself
had no doubt that the Lesser Panathenaea was meant ; he knew
no more than that this festival ‘ came after ' the Bendidea and
thought it took place ' about the same time ' (i, 84-5), whereas he
knew that the Greater Panathenaea fell in Hecatombaeon (i, 26).
Neither festival, in fact, came within two months of the Bendidea.
Plato probably intended the Greater Panathenaea. There is no
other indication of the dramatic date ; and it is unlikely that
Plato had troubled himself about the question whether there was
any such occasion on which Hermocrates could have visited Athens.
The date is of no importance. In his earliest dialogues Plato was
concerned to give the Athenians a true impression of Socrates'
character and activity, and he was at great pains to recreate the
atmosphere of the times. That interest was long past. In the
latest group there was no motive to keep up the illusion that the
conversations had really taken place. From all this it follows that
the dramatic date and setting of the Republic have no bearing
whatever on the dramatic date of the Timaeus trilogy. Also no
ground remains for any inference that Plato meant the contents of
the later books of the Republic to be superseded or corrected by the
Timaeus .

The design of the present trilogy is thus completely independent
of the Republic. What was that design ? The political question
answered in the Republic had been : What is the least change in
existing society necessary to cure the evils afflicting mankind ?
Plato had imagined a reformed Greek city-state with institutions
based, as he claimed, on the unalterable characteristics of human
nature. It appeared to be just within the bounds of possible
realisation. Referring to hopes founded on Dion or on the younger
Dionysius, he had said that his state might see the light of day,
if some prince could be found endowed with the philosophic nature,
and if that nature could escape corruption. But towards the end
of the Republic Plato seems less hopeful, and the state recedes as
a pattern laid up in heaven, by which the merits and defects of all
existing constitutions might be measured and appraised. More-
over, since that dialogue was written, Plato's Sicilian adventures

1 2 1 a, iv rj} iravqyvpei (the word implies an important festival) ; 26E, rfj
irapovcrfl rrjs deov dvcriq.. There was no such festival on Thargelion 21. The
Plynteria came five days later.

INTRODUCTION

had ended in disappointment. Accordingly, the discourse re-
capitulated at the opening of the Timaeus covers only the outline
of the state given in the earlier books of the Republic , ignoring all
the later books, which had started from the question how it might
be realised in the future and sketched its possible decline through
lower forms of polity. The new trilogy is to transfer this state to
the plane of actual existence, not in the future, but in the remote
past, as the Athens of nine thousand years ago. This is the subject
of the Critias, introduced at once as the central theme of the whole.

By way of preface, Timaeus is to recount his myth of creation,
ending with the birth of mankind. The whole movement starts
from the ideal world of the Demiurge and the eternal Forms,
descending thence to the frame of the visible universe and the
nature of man, whose further fortunes Critias will * take over '
for his story. Looking deeper, we see that the chief purpose of
the cosmological introduction is to link the morality externalised
in the ideal society to the whole organisation of the world.1 The
Republic had dwelt on the structural analogy between the state
and the individual soul. Now Plato intends to base his conception
of human life, both for the individual and for society, on the inex-
pugnable foundation of the order of the universe. The parallel
of macrocosm and microcosm runs through the whole discourse.
True morality is not a product of human evolution, still less the
arbitrary enactment of human wills. It is an order and harmony
of the soul ; and the soul itself is a counterpart, in miniature, of
the soul of the world, which has an everlasting order and harmony
of its own, instituted by reason. This order was revealed to every
soul before its birth (41E) ; and it is revealed now in the visible
architecture of the heavens. That human morality is so based on
the cosmic order had been implied, here or there, in earlier works ;
but the Timaeus will add something more like a demonstration,
although in mythical form.

In the next dialogue Critias will repeat the legend learnt by Solon
from an Egyptian priest : how primitive Athens (now to be iden-
tified with Socrates' ideal state) had defeated the invaders from
Atlantis. In the very hour when freedom and civilisation were
saved for the mediterranean world, the victorious Athenians had
themselves been overwhelmed by flood and earthquake. Atlantis
also sank beneath the sea and vanished. What was to follow ?
The story was not to end with the cataclysm of the Critias ; and
the Egyptian priest, discoursing at some length to Solon on these
periodic catastrophes in which all but a small remnant of mankind
perishes, has explained how the seeds of a new civilisation are
1 Cf. Fraccaroli, p. 13.

INTRODUCTION

preserved either on the mountains or in the river valleys, according
as the destruction is by flood or fire. When it is by flood, as at
the end of Critias' story, the cities on the plains are overwhelmed ;
only the mountain shepherds survive, and all culture is lost. Taking
up the story at this point, what could Hermocrates do, if not
describe the re-emergence of culture in the Greece of prehistoric
and historic times ? If so, the projected contents of the unwritten
dialogue are to be found in the third and subsequent books of the
Laws. There, after some preliminary r amblings about music and
wine in Books i and ii, the Athenian settles down to business at
the opening of Book iii with the question : What is the origin of
society and government ? In the immensity of past time myriads
of states have arisen and perished, reproducing again and again
:he same types of constitution. How do they arise ? Mankind
las often been almost destroyed by flood, plagues, and many other
causes ; only a small remnant is left. Imagine one such destruc-
tion— the Deluge. The herdsmen on the mountain-tops alone
survived, while the cities on the plains or near the sea were over-
whelmed. All arts and inventions perished ; all statecraft was
forgotten. Here is exactly the situation with which the Critias
was to end, described in language very like that of the Egyptian
priest. The Laws continues the story. After the deluge came a
very long and slow advance towards the present state of things.
Before the metals were rediscovered there was an idyllic phase of
society, resembling descriptions of the Golden Age, under the rule
of patriarchal custom. Next came the beginnings of agriculture
and the formation of more permanent settlements. The coalescence
pf various tribes led to the growth of aristocracies, or perhaps
monarchies, with kings and magistrates. A third stage saw the
blending of different types of constitution. Mankind, forgetting
the dangers of flood, ventured down from the hills. Cities like
jHomer’s Troy were built once more on the plains. (Here we reach
what was for the Greeks the dawn of history.) Then followed the
|rojan War ; and the troubles consequent upon the warriors'
bmecoming led to the migrations. Finally we reach the settle-
lent of Crete and Lacedaemon. The Athenian recommends a
Aidy of this succession of social forms, to discover what laws
Aserve a city or tend to ruin it. The history of the Dorian states
flffegests that government should be a mixture of monarchy and
(democracy. It is then proposed to apply this principle by framing
taws for a new colony. Book iv opens with the choice of a site,
(and the rest of the treatise outlines the institutions.

1 Since all this fits on exactly to the end planned for the Critias ,
fit may well have been Plato's original purpose to use in the Her-

INTRODUCTION

mocrates the material he had been collecting from a study of the
laws of Greek states. The whole trilogy would then have covered
the story of the world from creation, through prehistoric legend
and all historic time, to a fresh project for future reform. But
Plato was getting old. The composition of the Critias seems to
have been interrupted ; it stops in an unfinished sentence. After
the interruption Plato might well feel that he could not complete
all this elaborate romance about the invasion from Atlantis before
starting upon the subject nearest his heart, which now fills ten
books of the Laws.1 There was, in fact, by this time far too much
material for a continuation of the Timaeus trilogy, even with the
assistance of the unnamed absentee. So he abandoned the Critias ,
and wrote the Laws in place of the Hermocrates.2

1 In the same way (si parva licet) Mr. H. G. Wells has, with advancing
years, grown impatient of the Utopian romance and taken to expressing hif
hopes and fears for the future through ever thinner disguises, ending wit!
autobiography.

2 For the conjecture here elaborated see Raeder, 379.

THE TIMAEUS

17A-27B. Introductory Conversation

An account of the persons who take part in the conversation
prefacing the discourse of Timaeus has already been given in the
Introduction (pp. 1-3). We may proceed at once to the text.

Socrates. Timaeus. Hermocrates. Critias

7A. Socrates. One, two, three — but where, my dear Timaeus,
is the fourth of those guests of yesterday who were to
entertain me to-day ?

Timaeus. He suddenly felt unwell, Socrates ; he would not
have failed to join our company if he could have helped it.
Socr. Then it will fall to you and your companions to
supply the part of our absent friend as well as your own.

b. Tim. By all means ; we will not fail to do the best we
can. Yesterday you entertained us with the hospitality due
to strangers, and it would not be fair if the rest of us were
backward in offering you a feast in return.

Socr. Well, then, do you remember the task I set you —
all the matters you were to discourse upon ?

Tim. We can remember some ; and you are here to remind
us of any that we may have forgotten. Or rather, if it is
not too much trouble, will you recapitulate them briefly
from the beginning, to fix them more firmly in our minds ?

c. Socr. I will. Yesterday the chief subject of my own dis-
\ course was what, as it seemed to me, would be the best
I form of society and the sort of men who would compose it.

Tim. Yes, Socrates, and we all found the society you
described very much to our mind.

Socr. We began, did we not ? by separating off the farmers
and all the other craftsmen from the class that was to fight
in defence of the city ?

Tim. Yes.

d. Socr. And when we assigned only one occupation to each
man, one craft for which he was naturally fitted, these, we
said, who were to fight on behalf of all, must be nothing else

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION 17a-27b

17D. but guardians of the city against the assault of any that
would injure her, whether from within or from without,
18. dealing justice to their subjects mildly, as to natural friends,
and showing a stem face to those enemies who meet them
in battle.

Tim. Quite true.

Socr. There was, in fact, a certain temperament that we
said a guardian should have, at once spirited and philosophic
to an exceptional degree, enabling them to show a right
measure of mildness or sternness to friend or foe.

Tim. Yes.

Socr. And for their education, they were to be trained in
gymnastic and music and in all the studies suitable for them.
Tim. Certainly.

b. Socr. And the men so trained, we said, were never to regard
gold or silver or anything else as their private possessions.
Rather, as a garrison drawing from those whom they protect
sojmuch pay for their services as would reasonably suffice
men of a temperate life, they were to share all expense and
lead a common life together, in the constant exercise of
manly qualities and relieved from all other occupations.

Tim. So it was provided.

c. Socr. And then we spoke of women. We remarked that
their natures should be formed to the same harmonious blend
of qualities as those of men ; 1 and they should all be given
a share in men’s employments of every sort, in war as well
as in their general mode of life.

Tim. That too was prescribed.

Socr. And then there was the procreation of children. Here,
perhaps, the novelty of our regulations makes them easy to
remember. We laid down that they should all have their
marriages and children in common. They were to contrive
that no one of them should ever recognise his own offspring,
D. but each should look upon all as one family, treating as
brothers and sisters all who fell within appropriate limits of
age, and as parents and grandparents, or as children and
grandchildren, those who fell above or below those limits.
Tim. Yes ; that, as you say, is easy to remember.

Socr. Then, in order that they might have the best possible
natural dispositions from birth, we said, you remember, that
the magistrates of both sexes must make secret arrangements

1 owapfwoTcov refers to the proper blend of spirited and philosophic
elements mentioned above, which exist in women as in men (Rep. 456A).
For awapfxoTTciv cf. Rep. 443d*

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION

i8e. for the contraction of marriages by a certain method of draw-
ing lots, which would apportion both to the better men and
to the worse partners like themselves and yet not lead to any
ill-feeling, because they would imagine the allotment to be
the result of chance.

Tim. I remember that.

19. Socr. And further, the children of the better sort were to
be educated, while those of the worse should be secretly
dispersed through the rest of the community. The rulers
were to keep the children under observation as they grew up,
and from time to time take back again those who were found
worthy, while the undeserving ones in their own ranks should
take the places of the promoted.

Tim. Just so.

Socr. Well, then, my dear Timaeus, have we now passed
in review all the main points of yesterday’s conversation ; or
is there anything that we feel has been left out ?

b. Tim. No, Socrates ; you have exactly described what was
said.

As I have argued in the Introduction, we are evidently not to
imagine that Socrates has, on the previous day, narrated the whole
conversation in the Republic or any part of it. There is, in fact,
no part of the Republic of which it could be said that ‘ all the main
points ’ were covered by the above summary. Socrates now comes
to the instructions he is supposed to have given on the previous
day. He wishes the other three to draw a picture of his ideal
State in actual existence. With his usual modesty, he represents
this task as beyond his own powers. He had never been a man
of action or taken part in politics.

19B. Socr. I may now go on to tell you how I feel about the
society we have described. I feel rather like a man who
has been looking at some noble creatures in a painting, or
perhaps at real animals, alive but motionless, and conceives

c. a desire to watch them in motion and actively exercising
the powers promised by their form. That is just what I
feel about the city we have described : I should like to hear
an account of her putting forth her strength in such contests
as a city will engage in against others, going to war in a
manner worthy of her, and in that war achieving results
befitting her training and education, both in feats of arms
and in negotiation with various other states.

D. Now here, Critias and Hermocrates, my judgment upon

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION 17a-27b

19D. myself is that to celebrate our city and its citizens as they
deserve would be beyond my powers. My incapacity is not
surprising ; but I have formed the same judgment about
the poets of the past and of to-day. Not that I have a low
opinion of poets in general ; but anyone can see that an
imitator, of whatever sort, will reproduce best and most
easily the surroundings in which he has been brought up ;
e. what lies outside that range is even harder to reproduce
successfully in discourse than it is in action. The sophists,
again, I have always thought, have had plenty of practice in
making fine speeches on other subjects of all sorts ; but with
their habit of wandering from city to city and having no
settled home of their own, I am afraid they would hardly
hit upon 1 what men who are both philosophers and statesmen
would do and say in times of war, in the conduct of actual
fighting or of negotiation. There remain only people of your
condition, equipped by temperament and education for
20. both philosophy and statesmanship. Timaeus, for instance,
belongs to an admirably governed State, the Italian Locri,2
where he is second to none in birth and substance, and has
not only enjoyed the highest offices and distinctions his
country could offer, but has also, I believe, reached the highest
eminence in philosophy. Critias, again, is well known to
all of us at Athens as no novice in any of the subjects we are
discussing ; and that Hermocrates is fully qualified in all
such matters by natural gifts and education, we may trust
b. the assurance of many witnesses.3 * Accordingly this was in

1 daroxov. This unusual word recalls the description of rhetoric in the
Gorgias 4 63 a as a branch of Parasitism — ‘ a profession which is not of the
nature of an art, but demands a shrewd and virile spirit {i/jvxrjs crroxaarucfjs
kcu avhpeias) with a native cleverness in human relations \ Plato there
seems to have echoed Isocrates’ eulogy of rhetoric as demanding ‘ a virile
and imaginative spirit * {fox?)5 ovhpiKijs Kai 8 o^aoriKijs, k. ao<j>. ij), mali-
ciously substituting oToxamKrjs • In the Euthydemus (305c) Isocrates is
evidently aimed at as one who is ‘ on the borderline ' between philosophy
and statesmanship and fails to make the best of either.

2 The constitution of Locri was attributed to Zaleucus (Ar., Pol. 12 74 a, 22).
At Laws 638B the Athenian says that the Locrians are reputed to have the
best laws of any western state. If Timaeus never existed, this would account
for Plato’s choice of Locri for his native place.

3 At 20A, 8 read civ at ravra Uav^v F Y, Pr., to avoid hiatus with Uav^v.
So Blass (Att. Bered. ii, 458), who reckons hardly more than 50 cases of
‘ illegitimate ’ hiatus in the Timaeus, some of which can be removed by
adopting other MS. readings, as, for example, here and at 2 3 a, 2 and 38A, 4.
The rest, he thinks, should be regarded with suspicion, and some can be
easily removed by conjecture, e.g. rravra for airavra 78c, 1. According to

Raeder’s figures, the instances of illegitimate hiatus in Lysis , Apol., Gorg.t

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION

20B. my mind yesterday when I was so ready to grant your request
for a discourse on the constitution of society : I knew that,
if you would consent to supply the sequel, no one could do it
better ; you could describe this city engaged in a war worthy
of her and acting up to our expectations, as no other living
persons could. So, after fulfilling my part, I set you, in my
turn, the task of which I am now reminding you. You agreed

c. to consult among yourselves and to requite my hospitality
to-day. So here I am in full dress for the entertainment,
which I am most eager to receive.

Hermocrates. Indeed, Socrates, as Timaeus said, we shall
not fail to do our best, and we have no excuse for refusing.
Yesterday, as soon as we had reached Critias’ guest-chamber,
where we are staying, and even while we were still on the

d. way there, we were considering this very matter. Critias
then produced a story which he had heard long ago. Critias,
will you repeat it now to Socrates, and he shall help us to
judge whether or not it will answer the purpose of the task
he is laying on us ?

Critias. It shall be done, if our remaining partner, Timaeus,
approves.

Tim. Certainly I approve.

Crit. Listen then, Socrates, to a story which, though
strange, is entirely true, as Solon, wisest of the Seven, once

E. affirmed. He was a relative and close friend of Dropides,
my great-grandfather, as he says himself several times in his
poems ; and he told my grandfather Critias (according to
the story the old man used to repeat to us) that there were
great and admirable exploits performed by our own city
long ago, which have been forgotten through lapse of time
and the destruction of human life.1 Greatest of all was one
21. which it will now suit our purpose to recall, and so at once
pay our debt of gratitude to you and celebrate the goddess,
on her festival, with a true and merited hymn of praise.
Socr. Good. But what was this ancient exploit that your
grandfather described on Solon’s authority as unrecorded and
yet really performed by our city ?

Phaedo, Republic range between 35 and 45 per page of the Didot edition.
In Soph, and Polit. the figures drop to o-6 and 0*4, and the Timaeus shows
only a slightly higher figure, 1*1. There is a slight further rise in Philebus
(3*7) and Laws (5-8).

1 i.e. the almost complete destructions of mankind outside Egypt by flood
or fire, the <f>9opal av9p<Irrr<uv of 22c and Laws 677A, one of which overwhelmed
the actors in this exploit (<f>9opa row ipyaoapAv cov, 2 id). Both Plato and
Aristotle believed that such catastrophes occur.

P.C. 13 C

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION 17a-27b

21. Crit. I will tell you the story I heard as an old tale 1 from
a man who was himself far from young. At that time,
indeed, Critias, by his own account, was close upon ninety,

B. and I was, perhaps, ten years old. We were keeping the
Apaturia ; it was the Children’s Day.2 For us boys there
were the usual ceremonies : our fathers offered us prizes for
reciting. Many poems by different authors were repeated,
and not a few of us children sang Solon’s verses, which were
a novelty in those days. One of the clansmen said — either
because he really thought so or to please Critias — that he
considered Solon to have shown himself not only extremely

c. wise but, in his writings, the most free-spirited of poets.
The old man — how well I remember it ! — was much pleased
and said with a smile :

‘Yes, Amynander ; if only he had taken his poetry
seriously like others, instead of treating it as a pastime, and
if he had finished the story he brought home from Egypt
and had not been forced to lay it aside by the factions and
other troubles he found here on his return, I believe no other

d. poet — not Homer or Hesiod — would have been more famous
than he.’

‘ And what was the story, Critias ? ’ Amynander asked.

* It was about the greatest achievement ever performed
by our city — one that deserved to be the most renowned of
all, but through lapse of time and the destruction of the
actors, the story has not lasted down to our time.’

‘ Tell it from the beginning ’, said Amynander. ‘ How and
from whom did Solon hear this tale which he reported as
being true ? ’

E. ‘ In Egypt,’ said Critias, c at the apex of the Delta, where
the stream of the Nile divides, there is a province called the
Saitic. The chief city of this province is Sais, from which
came King Amasis. The goddess who presides over their
city is called in Egyptian Neith, in Greek, by their account,
Athena ; they are very friendly to Athens and claim a certain
kinship with our countrymen. Solon said that, when he
travelled thither, he was received with much honour ; and
22. further that, when he inquired about ancient times from the
priests who knew most of such matters, he discovered that
neither he nor any other Greek had any knowledge of anti-
quity worth speaking of. Once, wishing to lead them on

iv, i.e. the story was already old when Critias heard it from Solon 1
and Critias himself was very old when he told it to his grandson.

* The day on which children were inscribed on the register of the clan.

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION

22. to talk about ancient times, he set about telling them the
most venerable of our legends, about Phoroneus the reputed
first man and Niobe, and the story how Deucalion and Pyrrha

b. survived the deluge. He traced the pedigree of their des-
cendants, and tried, by reckoning the generations, to compute
how many years had passed since those events.

" Ah, Solon, Solon/' said one of the priests, a very old
man, “ you Greeks are always children ; in Greece there is
no such thing as an old man."

“ What do you mean ? " Solon asked.

“You are all young in your minds," said the priest, “ which
hold no store of old belief based on long tradition, no know-
ledge hoary with age. The reason is this. There have

c. been, and will be hereafter, many and divers destructions
of mankind, the greatest by fire and water, though other
lesser ones are due to countless other causes. Thus the story
current also in your part of the world, that Phaethon, child
of the Sun, once harnessed his father's chariot but could not
guide it on his father's course and so burnt up everything
on the face of the earth and was himself consumed by the
thunderbolt — this legend has the air of a fable ; but the

D. truth behind it is a deviation of the bodies that revolve in
heaven round the earth and a destruction, occurring at long
intervals, of things on earth by a great conflagration. At
such times all who live on mountains and in high regions
where it is dry perish more completely than dwellers by the
rivers or the sea. We have the Nile, who preserves us in so
many ways and in particular saves us from this affliction
when he is set free.1 On the other hand, when the gods
cleanse the earth with a flood of waters, the herdsmen and
shepherds in the mountains are saved, while the inhabitants

e. of cities in your part of the world are swept by the rivers
into the sea. But in this country the water does not fall
from above upon the fields either then or at other times ; its
way is always to rise up over them from below. It is for
these reasons that the traditions preserved here are the oldest
on record ; 2 though as a matter of fact in all regions where

23. inordinate cold or heat does not forbid it mankind exists at all

1 The question from what, and by what, the Nile is * set free ’ is discussed
in the Appendix (p. 365).

a Afyercu, cf. A eyopcvov 21 a, 5. Not ‘are said to be': the Egyptian
traditions are the oldest, because, although mankind is not completely
destroyed anywhere, no records are kept elsewhere by the unlettered survivors
of floods and conflagrations.

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION

17a-27b

23 . times in larger or smaller numbers. Any great or noble achieve -
ment or otherwise exceptional event that has come to pass,
either in your parts or here or in any place of which we have
tidings,1 has been written down for ages past in records that
are preserved in our temples ; whereas with you and other
peoples again and again life has only lately been enriched
with letters and all the other necessaries of civilisation when
once more, after the usual period of years, the torrents from
heaven sweep down like a pestilence leaving only the rude

b. and unlettered among you. And so you start again like
children, knowing nothing of what existed in ancient times
here or in your own country. For instance, these genealogies
of your countrymen, Solon, that you were reciting just now,
are little better than nursery tales. To begin with, your
people remember only one deluge, though there were many
earlier ; and moreover you do not know that the bravest
and noblest race in the world once lived in your country.

c. From a small remnant of their seed you and all your fellow-
citizens are derived ; but you know nothing of it because
the survivors for many generations died leaving no word
in writing. Once, Solon, before the greatest of all destruc-
tions by water, what is now the city of the Athenians was
the most valiant in war and in all respects the best governed
beyond comparison : her exploits and her government are said
to have been the noblest under heaven of which report has

D. come to our ears/1

On hearing this, Solon was astonished and eagerly begged
the priests to tell him from beginning to end all about those
ancient citizens.

" Willingly,” answered the priest ; “ I will tell you for
your own sake and for your city's, and above all for honour
of the goddess, patroness of our city and of yours, who has
fostered both and instructed them in arts. Yours she

E. founded first by a thousand years, from the time when she
took over the seed of your people from Earth and Hephaestus ;
ours only in later time ; and the age of our institutions is
given in the sacred records as eight thousand years. Accord-
ingly those fellow-countrymen of yours lived nine thousand
years ago ; and I will shortly describe their laws and the
noblest exploit they performed ; we will go through the

24. whole story in detail another time at our leisure, with the
records before us.

1 Read a/coty (AY, Pr.), with Blass and A.-H., to avoid hiatus. See note
on 20A.

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION

24. ** Consider their laws in comparison with ours ; you will

find here to-day many parallels illustrating your own
institutions in those days. First, there is the separation of
the priesthood from the other classes ; next the class of
craftsmen — you will find that each kind keeps to its own
craft without infringing on another ; shepherds, hunters,

B. farmers.1 The soldiers, moreover, as you have no doubt
noticed, are here distinct from all other classes ; they are
forbidden by law to concern themselves with anything but
war. Besides, the fashion of their equipment is with spear
and shield, arms which we were the first people in Asia to
bear, for the goddess taught us, as she had taught, you first
in your part of the world. Again, in the matter of wisdom,
you see what great care the law has bestowed upon it here
from the very beginning, both as concerns the order of the

c. world, deriving from those divine things the discovery of
all arts applied to human affairs, down to the practice of
divination and medicine with a view to health, and acquiring
all the other branches of learning connected therewith.2 All
this order and system the goddess had bestowed upon you
earlier when she founded your society, choosing the place
in which you were bom because she saw that the well-
tempered climate would bear a crop of men of high intelli-
gence. Being a lover of war and of wisdom, the goddess chose

d. out the region that would bear men most closely resembling
herself and there made her first settlement. And so you dwelt
there with institutions such as I have mentioned and even
better, surpassing all mankind in every excellence, as might
be looked for in men bom of gods and nurtured by them.

" Many great exploits of your city are here recorded

1 Isocrates’ Busiris (certainly earlier in date than the Timaeus) mentions
the Egyptian caste system, and is itself based on Herod, ii, 164-8. But it
is not unlikely that Plato himself had visited Egypt.

2 A.-H. suspects the soundness of the text here. The general sense seems
to be that the Egyptians base all the arts applied to human life on the study
of the heavens (for anavra avcvpwv meaning the invention of arts, cf. Xeno-
phanes frag. 18 ovtol an* dpxijs navra deol dvrjTola* vnebet^av, aXXa ypova) ^rjTovvres
c<f>€vplaKov<nv dpLcivov). Plato’s language recalls Isocrates, Busiris 21:
Busiris is tt}s ncpl ttjv <f>p6v7)cnv inificXcias a trios. The leisure he provided for
the priests enabled them to discover the art of medicine and to practise
philosophy . The younger priests study astronomy , calculation, and geometry
(perhaps the tiadrjpLara Plato mentions in the last clause). According to
Diod. i, 82, 3 Egyptian physicians were bound to follow the treatment laid
down by ancient physicians in sacred books, and condemned to death for
departing from it. Aristotle (Pol. iii, 12 86a, 13) says that they were allowed
to alter the treatment after the fourth day.

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION 17a-27b

24D. for the admiration of all ; but one surpasses the rest in
E. greatness and valour. The records tell how great a power
your city once brought to an end when it insolently advanced
against all Europe and Asia, starting from the Atlantic ocean
outside. For in those days that ocean could be crossed,
since there was an island 1 in it in front of the strait which
your countrymen tell me you call the Pillars of Heracles.
The island was larger than Libya and Asia put together;
and from it the voyagers of those days could reach the other
islands, and from these islands the whole of the opposite
25. continent bounding that ocean which truly deserves the name.
For all these parts that lie within the strait I speak of, seem
to be a bay with a narrow entrance ; that outer sea is the
real ocean, and the land which entirely surrounds it really
deserves the name of continent in the proper sense.2 Now
on this Atlantic island there had grown up an extraordinary
power under kings who ruled not only the whole island but
many of the other islands and parts of the continent ; and
besides that, within the straits, they were lords of Libya
B. so far as to Egypt, and of Europe to the borders of Tyrrhenia.
All this power, gathered into one, attempted at one swoop
to enslave your country and ours and all the region within
the strait. Then it was, Solon, that the power of your city
was made manifest to all mankind in its valour and strength.
She was foremost of all in courage and in the arts of war,
c, and first as the leader of Hellas, then forced by the defection
of the rest to stand alone, she faced the last extreme of
danger, vanquished the invaders, and set up her trophy ;
the peoples not yet enslaved she preserved from slavery,
and all the rest of us who dwell within the bounds set by
Heracles she freed with ungrudging hand. Afterwards there
was a time of inordinate earthquakes and floods ; there came
D. one terrible day and night, in which all your men of war
were swallowed bodily by the earth, and the island Atlantis
also sank beneath the sea and vanished. Hence to this day
that outer ocean cannot be crossed or explored, the way
being blocked by mud, just below the surface,3 left by the
settling down of the island/' '

1 Serious scholars now agree that Atlantis probably owed its existence
entirely to Plato’s imagination. See Frutiger, Mythes de Platon, 244 ff.

* The Etym. Mag. connects rjncipog with aireipos : land not bounded by
sea as an island is. iravreXats should be taken with nepiexovaa. The outer
continent is ‘ unbounded ’ as forming a completely unbroken ring.

* Heading Kara Ppaycos, 1 at a slight depth \ See Appendix, p. 366.

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION

5E. Now, Socrates, I have given you a brief account of the
story told by the old Critias as he heard it from Solon. When
you were speaking yesterday about your state and its citizens,
I recalled this story and I was surprised to notice in how many
points your account exactly agreed, by some miraculous
6. chance, with Solon's. But I would say nothing at the
moment ; after so long an interval, my memory was im-
perfect. So I resolved that I would not repeat the story
until I had first gone over it thoroughly in my own mind.
That is why I so readily agreed to the task you laid upon us
yesterday ; I thought that in any case like this the hardest
part is to find some suitable theme as a foundation for one's
design, and that that need would be fairly well supplied.
Accordingly, as Hermocrates has told you, no sooner had
I left yesterday than I set about repeating the story to our

b. friends as I recalled it, and when I got home I recovered
pretty well the whole of it by thinking it over at night. How
true is the saying that what we learn in childhood has a
wonderful hold on the memory ! I doubt if I could recall
everything that I heard yesterday ; but I should be sur-
prised if I have lost any detail of this story told me so long
ago. I listened at the time with much boyish delight, and

c. the old man was very ready to answer the questions I kept
on asking ; so it has stayed in my mind indelibly like an
encaustic picture. Moreover, I told it all to our friends early
this morning, so that they might be as well provided as
myself with materials for their discourse.

To come to the point I have been leading up to : I am
ready now, Socrates, to tell the story, not in summary,
but in full detail as I heard it. We will transfer the state
you described yesterday and its citizens from the region of

d. theory to concrete fact ; we will take the city to be Athens
and say that your imaginary citizens are those actual ances-
tors of ours, whom the priest spoke of. They will fit per-
fectly, and there will be no inconsistency in declaring them
to be the real men of those ancient times. Dividing the
work between us, we will all try to the best of our powers to
carry out your injunctions properly. It is for you to consider,
Socrates, whether this story will suit our purpose or we must

E. look for another in its stead.

Socr. How could we change it for the better, Critias ? Its
connection with the goddess makes it specially appropriate
to her festival to-day ; and it is surely a great point that it
is no fiction, but genuine history. How and where shall we

INTRODUCTORY CONVERSATION 17a-27b

26e. find other characters, if we abandon these ? No, you shall
speak and good luck 1 be with you ; I have earned by my
27. discourse of yesterday the right to take a rest and listen.
Crit. Then I will submit to you the plan we have arranged
for your entertainment, Socrates. We decided that Timaeus
shall speak first. He knows more of astronomy than the
rest of us and has made knowledge of the nature of the universe
his chief object ; he will begin with the birth of the world
and end with the nature of man. Then I am to follow, taking
over from him mankind, whose origin he has described, and
from you a portion of them who have received a supremely
B. good training. I shall then, in accordance with Solon's
enactment as well as with his story, bring them before our
tribunal and make them our fellow-citizens, on the plea that
they are those old Athenians of whose disappearance we are
informed by the report of the sacred writings. In the rest
of our discourse we shall take their claim to the citizenship
of Athens as established.

Sock. I see that I am to receive a complete and splendid
banquet of discourse in return for mine. So you, Timaeus,
are to speak next, when you have invoked the gods as custom
requires.

It has often been remarked that this introductory conversation,
right down to Critias' last speech, might have been written for the
Critias only, as if the task set by Socrates could have been com-
pletely fulfilled by the story of Atlantis. Plato's purpose may have
been to indicate that, now as ever, his chief interest lies in the field
of morals and politics, not in physical speculation. The whole
cosmology of the Timaeus is only a preface to the legendary picture
of the ideal state in action and to whatever were to have been the
contents of the Hermocrates. Another motive for here anticipating
the Atlantis story was suggested by Longinus (Pr. i, 83). The
Timaeus is not easy reading ; and the physiological and medical
chapters towards the end would be repellent to many. The reader
might be encouraged to persevere by the promise of an exciting
romance to follow. It is, at any rate, well to remember that the
unfinished state of the trilogy gives the Timaeus a prominence it
would not have had in the completed design.

1 Good luck is invoked here, the gods below (27c). Cf. Laws vi, 757E dcdv
tea 1 dvaBijv rvxrjv kcu totc cv cvxats cmKaXovfjicvovs. At Epin. 991 D and 992 A
&€&v KaXclv and rvxnv KaXtlv are treated as equivalent.

NATURE AND SCOPE OF PHYSICS

THE DISCOURSE OF TIMAEUS

27C-29D Prelude. The nature and scope of Physics

Timaeus' ‘ prelude ', marked off from what follows by Socrates’
expression of approval (29D), lays down the principles of the whole
discourse and defines the limitations of any treatment of physics.
It is constructed with great care. After the opening invocation
of the gods, the second paragraph states three general premisses
concerning anything that is not eternal, but comes to be. These
premisses are then applied successively to the visible universe. (1)
The eternal is the intelligible ; what comes to be is the sensible.
Since the world is sensible, it must be a thing that comes to be.
(2) Whatever comes to be must have a cause. Therefore the world
has a cause — a maker and father ; but he is hard to find. (3) The
work of any maker will be good only if he fashions it after an eternal
model. The world is good ; so its model must have been eternal.
Finally, the conclusion is drawn : any account that can be given
of the physical world can be no better than a ' likely story ', because
the world itself is only a * likeness ' of unchanging reality.

27c. Tim. That, Socrates, is what all do, who have the least
portion of wisdom : always, at the outset of every under-
taking, small or great, they call upon a god. We who are
now to discourse about the universe — how it came into being,
or perhaps had no beginning of existence — must, if our senses
be not altogether gone astray, invoke gods and goddesses
with a prayer that our discourse throughout may be above
all pleasing to them and in consequence satisfactory to us.1
D. Let this suffice, then, for our invocation of the gods ; but we
must also call upon our own powers,2 so that you may follow
most readily and I may give the clearest expression to my
thought on the theme proposed.

rjplv is usually taken to mean f consistently with ourselves '
and translated ‘ consistent with itself \ But this should be enoptvajs rjplv
avrols, and at 29c we are told not to expect avrovs eavrols 6poXoyovp4vovs
X oyovs. Proclus rightly understood eiropevtos as ‘ secondarily ' or * conse-
quentially ' (as at Ar., Met. 1032A, 22 : the word ‘ being ’ applies primarily
to substances, enopevajs to other categories) : he writes tovto yap eon to
aKporarov decjpias t4Xos, to els rov Belov avQ.hpap.tiv vovv. . . . hevrepov he hrj /cat
irropevov rovrep to Kara rov avdpcomvov vovv /cat to rrjs emarrjprjs <f>a>S hiarrepavaaQax
rijv oXrjv Betoplav (I, 22 1). rjplv depends on Kara vovv, as at 17c /cot paXa ye rjplv
. . . Kara vovv, 26D el Kara vovv 6 Xoyos rjplv ovtqs. enopevcos replaces the usual
eneira partly for euphony, partly perhaps to suggest that the discourse, if
pleasing to heaven, should consequently be satisfactory to us.

8 to 1 )p4T€pov, so A.-H. Cf. to epov, * my incapacity ' (19D, 3).

NATURE AND SCOPE OF PHYSICS 27c-29d

27D. We must, then, in my judgment, first make this distinc-
tion : what is that which is always real and has no becoming,

28. and what is that which is always becoming and is never
real ? That which is apprehensible by thought with a
rational account is the thing that is' always unchangeably
real ; whereas that which is the object of belief together with
unreasoning sensation is the thing that becomes and passes
away, but never has real being.1 Again, all that becomes
must needs become by the agency of some cause ; for without
a cause nothing can come to be. Now whenever the maker
of anything looks to that which is always unchanging and
uses a model of that description in fashioning the form and
quality of his work, all that he thus accomplishes must be

b. good.2 If he looks to something that has come to be and
uses a generated model, it will not be good.

So concerning the whole Heaven or World — let us call it
by whatsoever name may be most acceptable to it 3 — we
must ask the question which, it is agreed, must be asked
at the outset of inquiry concerning anything : Has it always
been, without any source of becoming ; or has it come to
be, starting from some beginning ? It has come to be ; for
it can be seen and touched and it has body, and all such

c. things are sensible ; and, as we saw, sensible things, that
are to be apprehended by belief together with sensation, are
things that become and can be generated. But again, that
which becomes, we say, must necessarily become by the
agency of some cause. The maker and father of this universe
it is a hard task to find, and having found him it would be
impossible to declare him to all mankind. Be that as it
may, we must go back to this question about the world :

29. After which of the two models did its builder frame it — after
that which is always in the same unchanging state, or after
that which has come to be ? Now if this world is good and

1 With Pr. (i. 240) I take del Kara raura ov ( = to ov act, ycvcoiv Sc ovk c\ov
above) and yiyvoficvov teal dvoXXv/xcvov, ovtcos Sc ouScnorc ov ( = to ytyvoficvov ficv ac i,
ov Sc ovScttotc above) as the terms to be defined and to votfoci . . . ircpiXrjiTTov
and to . . . ho^aarov as the definitions demanded in the previous sen-
tence. Cf. the repetition of this statement below at 28b, 8 ' as we saw,
sensible things, apprehensible by belief together with sensation, are things
that come to be and can be generated ’.

2 koXov, ‘ good \ ‘ satisfactory as at Gen. i. 8, ‘ God saw that it was good *
(cTScv 6 Bcos on koXov, LXX) . The Greek word means also ‘ desirable

* beautiful ', and will be sometimes so translated.

8 4 Heaven ' (ovpavos) is used throughout the dialogue as a synonym of
cosmos, the entire world, not the sky.

NATURE AND SCOPE OF PHYSICS

29. its maker is good, clearly he looked to the eternal ; on the
contrary supposition (which cannot be spoken without
blasphemy), to that which has come to be. Everyone, then,
must see that he looked to the eternal ; for the world is
the best of things that have become, and he is the best of
causes. Having come to be, then, in this way, the world
has been fashioned on the model of that which is compre-
hensible by rational discourse and understanding and is
always in the same state.

B. Again, these things being so,1 our world must necessarily
be a likeness of something. Now in every matter it is of
great moment to start at the right point in accordance with
the nature of the subject. Concerning a likeness, then, and
its model we must make this distinction : an account is of
the same order 2 as the things which it sets forth — an account
of that which is abiding and stable and discoverable by the
aid of reason will itself be abiding and unchangeable (so far
as it is possible and it lies in the nature of an account to be
incontrovertible and irrefutable, there must be no falling

c. short of that) ; 3 while an account of what is made in the
image of that other, but is only a likeness, will itself be but
likely, standing to accounts of the former kind in a propor-
tion : as reality is to becoming, so is truth to belief. If
then, Socrates, in many respects concerning many things
— the gods and the generation of the universe — we prove
unable to render an account at all points entirely consistent
with itself and exact, you must not be surprised. If we can
furnish accounts no less likely than any other, we must be
content, remembering that I who speak and you my judges

D. are only human, and consequently it is fitting that we should,
in these matters, accept the likely story and look for nothing
further.

Socr. Excellent, Timaeus ; we must certainly accept it as
you say. Your prelude we have found exceedingly accept-
able ; so now go on to develope your main theme.

The chief point established in this prelude is that the visible
world, of which an account is to be given, is a changing image or
likeness (eikon) of an eternal model. It is a realm, not of being,
but of becoming. The inference is that no account that we or

1 ‘ These things ' means the whole application to the world of the three
foregoing premisses. There should be a full stop before tout cov 8c wrapxovrcov a8
as before toutou 8* vTrapxovros a$ at 30c, 2.

2 ovyycvrjs in this sense, 31 a, i.

8 Burnet's text. The uncertainty of the reading does not affect the sense.

BEING AND BECOMING 27c-29d

anyone else can give of it will ever be more than ' likely \ There
can never be a final statement of exact truth about this changing
object.

(i) Being and Becoming . The first premiss lays down the
Platonic classification of existence into two orders. The higher is
the realm of unchanging and eternal being possessed by the Platonic
Forms. This contains the objects of rational understanding accom-
panied by a rational account (/uera Aoyov), namely, the discursive
arguments of mathematics and dialectic which yield a securely
grounded apprehension of truth and reality.1 The lower realm
contains 1 that which is always becoming ’, passing into existence,
changing, and perishing, but never has real being. This is the
world of things perceived by our senses. Sense-perception, as
Proclus remarks (i, 249), is ' unreasoning ' in several ways. Sight
tells us that an apple is red, smell, that it is fragrant, taste, that it
is sweet ; judgment (not sense) tells us that it is an apple. If the
sun looks to our eyes a foot in width, the reasoning which assures
us that the sun is really larger than the earth will never make it
look any bigger. Finally, sense can never apprehend what white-
ness is ; sight is merely aware, by its own passive affection, that
some object is white. The judgments we pass on objects of per-
ception are also unreasoned. They can only state what is, at best,
a fact when the judgment is made, though it may cease to be a
fact when the object changes. The reason why can only be appre-
hended by the higher faculty of understanding.

The application of this premiss tells us that the visible world —
the object of physics, as distinct from mathematics and dialectic
— belongs to the lower order of existence. As having a visible and
tangible body, it is an object of perception and of judgments based
on perception. Accordingly, it belongs to the realm of ' things
that become and can be generated \ It is not eternal, but has a
beginning or source of becoming.

The ambiguity of the word * becoming * (yivecng, yiyvsaOcu)
gave rise to a controversy on the question whether Plato really
meant, as he appears to mean, that the world had a beginning in
time, (a) A thing comes into existence at some time, either suddenly
or at the end of a process during which it has been developing
(if it is a natural object that is bom and grows) or has been fashioned
(if it is a thing made by a craftsman). This sense of the word
corresponds to the notion of a cause imaged as a father who begets
his offspring, or as a maker who fashions his product out of his

1 So at 5 ie rational understanding is ‘ always accompanied by a true
account ' (del per aXrjdovs A 6yov) , whereas ' true opinion * can give no
rational account of itself (is dAoyov).

BEING AND BECOMING

materials. The thing is not there at the beginning of the process ;
it is there at the end : we can say ' it has become \ (b) To ' be-

come ' can also mean to be in process of change. The word is used
of events that ‘ are happening ' ; or changes that are ‘ going on \
It is true that in such ‘ becoming * something new is always appear-
ing, something old passing away ; but the process itself can be
conceived as going on perpetually, without beginning or end. For
this perpetual becoming the sort of cause needed is not a cause
that will start the process at some moment and complete it at
another, but a cause that can sustain the process and keep it going
endlessly. For such a cause both the images, * father ' and ‘ maker ',
are inappropriate. We should need rather to think of some ideal
or end, constantly exercising a force of attraction, and perhaps
of some impulse in the thing itself, constantly aspiring towards the
ideal.

Which kind of becoming did Plato mean to attribute to the
physical world ? On the surface, he speaks of becoming in the
first sense, as if the ordered world came into existence at some time
out of a previous state of disorder. It was made by a divine
Craftsman, and completed once for all ( djioreXetodat , 28b, i).
The question is immediately prejudged where he simply substitutes
for the cause of becoming, mentioned in the second premiss, the
maker, mentioned in the third. We may compare the division of
production in the Sophist (265B) into the two kinds, divine and
human. Is the coming into being of natural things out of not-
being to be attributed to divine craftsmanship (1 Oeov drjfiLovgyovvrog) ,
' a causation which, working with reason and art, is divine and
proceeds from divinity *, or to 4 Nature, giving birth to them as
a result of some spontaneous cause that generates without in-
telligence ’ ? Both speakers accept the alternative of divine
craftsmanship. The suggestion in either case is that the world
had a beginning of existence in time. The only question is, whether
it was made upon a divine plan or grew by some blind spontaneous
impulse. Similarly in the Philebus (26E) we hear that all things
that become must have some cause (airta), and this is immediately
identified with * the maker 1 (to noiovv) ; ‘ what becomes * and
* what is made * are two names for one thing. As in the Timaeus ,
the Craftsman (to drjfuovgyovv) is substituted as the equivalent
of ‘ the maker ' and of ‘ the cause * ; and later (28D) this cause is
said to be Intelligence, the King of Heaven and Earth.

On the other hand, the statement that the world ' has become '
in this sense is formally contradicted by the language of the first
premiss, which contrasts with the eternally real ' that which is
always becoming, but never has real being \ This phrase can only

THE CAUSE OF BECOMING 27c-29d

mean what ' becomes 1 in the second sense, what is everlastingly in
process of change. The application of the premiss to the visible
world must mean that the world belongs to the lower order of
existence so described. This is clear from the reason Plato gives
for saying that the world * has become ' : * for it is visible and
tangible and has a body and all such things are sensible/ and what
is sensible belongs to the lower order, in contrast with the realm of
eternal being. Modem authorities, accordingly, agree with Proclus,
who contrasts the undivided and eternal being of the intelligible,
which is not in time, with the everlasting existence in time of the
world. The phrase ' it has become 1 he understands as meaning
that the world possesses 1 the existence that is measured by time ',
a derivative and dependent existence which is not self-sufficing.
In this matter Proclus was following the main tradition of the
Academy, from Xenocrates, Plato’s second successor, onwards.1
Speaking of contemporaries at the Academy, Aristotle writes :
‘ They say that in describing the generation of the world they are
doing as a geometer does in constructing a figure, not implying
that the universe ever really came into existence, but for purposes
of exposition facilitating understanding by exhibiting the object,
like the figure, in process of formation ’ [decaelo, 279 b, 33). Professor
Taylor finds that ' apparently this tradition was steadily main-
tained by almost all the Platonists down to the time of Plotinus
(in the third century a.d.). Proclus mentions only two dissentients,
Plutarch himself and Atticus, an acute and learned Platonist of
the age of the Antonines.’ Though Aristotle chose to criticise
Plato's statement in its apparently literal meaning, his colleague
Theophrastus recorded the Academic interpretation as at least
possible.2 This question is, of course, bound up with the question
whether the Demiurge, as such, is mythical. If he was not really
a ‘ maker then there was no moment of creation. We shall
presently argue in support of this position. For the present we
may accept the Academic tradition.

(2) The Cause of Becoming . It follows that the ' cause ' of this
becoming must be a perpetually sustaining cause. The application
of the second premiss merely states that the maker and father of
the universe is hard to find and impossible to declare to all men.
Plato, in fact, does not pretend to have solved the mystery of the
universe ; and had he done so, he would not (as the Seventh Letter
declares) have set down the solution in writing for all men to read

1 The evidence is collected by Tr., p. 67.

* See Tr., p. 69, note. Add the testimony of Albinus (' Alcinous ') : * When
Plato speaks of the world as “ generated ”, it is not to be understood that
there ever was a time when the world did not exist' (Didasc., ch. xiv).

MODEL AND COPY

and misunderstand. He was certain that the visible world ex-
hibited the working of a divine intelligence aiming at what is good,
and he held it to be of the utmost importance for the conduct of
human life that this should be believed. The truth is best con-
veyed by the image of the divine maker, pictured as distinct (like
the human craftsman) from his model, his materials, and his work.
But he here warns us not to imagine that, in using this image, he
has declared the true nature of the cause. It is to be taken, not
literally, but as a poetical figure. The whole subsequent account
of the world is cast in a mould which this figure dictates. What is
really an analysis of the elements of rational order in the visible
universe and of those other elements on which order is imposed,
is presented in mythical form as the story of a creation in time.
Plato had used a similar device in the Republic , where the analysis
of the ideal State is cast into the form of a history, starting from
the barest necessities of social life and adding storey upon storey
to the fabric. He did not mean that any actual state ever came
into existence by these stages. What the sustaining cause is, Plato
does not tell us and could not tell us without stepping outside the
framework of the very myth he is constructing.1 This question,
again, must be held in reserve till we have considered the status
of the Demiurge.

(3) Model and copy. The third premiss and its application
develope further the image of the craftsman and his model. If
a craftsman copies an eternal model, his work will be good ; if
the model is a generated thing, it will not be so. The reference
is to Republic x, where the good type of craftsman is the carpenter
who makes an actual bed, taking for his model * the real bed ’ —
a Form which he does not create or invent, but which exists in the
nature of things. The bad type is the painter who takes a generated
thing, the carpenter's bed, for his model, and produces only an
appearance of a thing which itself is not wholly real, an image of
an image. The same analogy is drawn in the Sophist , 265. The
* divine production of originals ' (the contents of the visible world,
made by the Demiurge in the Timaeus) is parallel to the human
craftsmanship which builds an actual house. In nature there are
also dream-images, shadows, reflections, parallel to the painter's

1 Tr. here outruns Plato's exposition : ' The physical world, then, has a
maker. . . . This means, exactly as the dogma of creation does in Christian
theology, that the physical world does not exist in its own right, but depends
on a really self-existing being, the “ best tpvxrf ", God, for its existence.' I
am not theologian enough to know what the orthodox interpretation of the
dogma of creation is; but myriads of Jews and Christians, from Moses to
the present day, have believed that in the beginning God created the heavens
and the earth, and have understood ‘ beginning ’ in a temporal sense.

PHYSICS A 1 LIKELY STORY' 27c-29d

picture of a house, * a man-made dream for waking eyes.' In the
application here it is argued that, since the visible world is, in fact,
good, its maker must have copied a model that is eternal. The
world, then, is a copy, an image, of the real. It is not, indeed,
like an artist's painting, at the third remove from reality ; but
on the other hand it is not wholly real. Plato will return to consider
the nature of the model at 30c.

Physics only a ' likely story \ Hence follows the conclusion in
the last paragraph : the visible world being only a likeness of the
real, no account of it can be more than a likely story.

Here it is important to observe that the statement that the world
is an image or likeness is independent of the symbolism of the
Demiurge creating his work after a model. Not all images are
made by artists. Among likenesses, Plato often instances reflec-
tions in water or in a mirror. For these all that is required is the
thing reflected, the reflection, and the medium which holds it. If
the world is an image of that sort, we can dispense with the maker
in any literal sense. The realm of Forms will be the original, the
visible world the reflection ; and the medium will be that Recep-
tacle of becoming which is later provided. We shall, in fact, find
in the second part of the dialogue that the three factors needed are
Being, Becoming, and Space (52D), and the symbol of the father
is there transferred to Being, which serves as the model for Be-
coming (50D), as if the Forms themselves could be credited with
the power to beget Becoming in the womb of Space, or to cast
their reflections on that medium. It is true that this symbolism
again cannot be taken literally : the Forms can possess no gener-
ating power. There must also be a rational soul to cause motion.
But, however this moving cause may be mythically represented,
the conclusion that the visible world is an image of the eternal
remains. It is supported by many passages in other dialogues
which are not mythical in form. It is, indeed, the cardinal doctrine
of Platonism.

The doctrine carries with it the conclusion that since the world
is only a likeness of the real, any account of it can be no more than
a ' likely ' story. This means that there can be no exact, or even
self-consistent, science of Nature. The view is characteristically
Platonic. There is no evidence that any of the earlier Pythagoreans
doubted the possibility of physical science. On the contrary,
Aristotle says that they did not distinguish sensible bodies from
the solids of mathematics, as if they agreed with the physical
philosophers in general that the visible world is the real.1 In fact,

1 Met. 989 b, 29 ff. This is one of many grounds for rejecting the thesis
that the Timaeus is merely reproducing fifth-century Pythagoreanism.

PHYSICS A * LIKELY STORY'

they ignored the distinction here drawn by Plato between the field
of eternal truth, which includes mathematics, and the region of
physics.

In Plato's view there can be no exact science or knowledge of
natural things because they are always changing.1 The objects
of mathematical science are timeless and invariable ; the things
of sense are always in process of becoming. An ' account ' must
be of the same order as its objects. The objects of physics are
of the lower order, apprehensible only by belief involving sense-
perception. The substance of our account of them must be related
to truth in the same way as Becoming to Being — the relation of a
* likeness ' to reality. This analogy was symbolised in Republic vi
by the Divided Line, of which the lower part stands for belief
(66£a or jiurcLg) and its changing objects, the higher part for rational
understanding and true reality. There is, accordingly, no such
thing as a science of Nature, no exact truth to which our account
of physical things can ever hope to approximate.

I here differ from Professor Taylor, who says that the cosmology
of the Timaeus ‘ properly speaking is not “ science ” but “ myth ",
lot in the sense that it is baseless fiction, but in the sense that it is
he nearest approximation which can “ provisionally " be made to exact
ruth ' (p. 59, my italics). Things which change or move or grow
ire always ‘ turning out to be more or less than we had supposed
:hem to be ', and so, in all the natural sciences, we need * to be perpet-
aally revising and improving on the results ' we have reached about
them. * Physical “ laws " are always being revised and “ correc-
ted " in the light of newly discovered " facts " or of more accurate
measurements of “ facts " which were already familiar.' This is
a modernism. It implies that there is an exact truth in physics,
to which we can constantly approximate. Plato denies this. The
becoming which makes physical things unknowable cannot be
reduced to their * turning out to be more or less than we had sup-
posed '. A similar confusion is suggested by Burnet's account of
the Timaeus {Greek Phil, i, 340) : Our account of the world ‘ will
jbe truth in the making, just as the sensible world is the intelligible
vorld in the making '. The phrase ‘ in the making ' suggests that
he sensible world is on the way to become, and might end by
•ecoming, the intelligible world, and similarly that our accounts
>f it are on the way to become, and might end by becoming, truth.
The one result is as impossible as the other.

1 Aristotle, Met. a, 6 : ‘ Plato, having in his youth become familiar with
'ratylus and with the Heraclitean doctrine that all sensible things are
ver in a state of flux and there is no knowledge about them, continued to
old these views in later years.'

P.C.

PLAN OF THE DISCOURSE

27c-29d

Some have regarded the mythical character of the dialogue as a
4 veil of allegory which can be 4 stripped off and have imagined
that they could state in literal terms the meaning which Plato has
chosen to disguise. It is true that we can say, with a fair degree of
certainty, that some features are not to be taken literally. We
shall soon find reason to say this much of the Demiurge. But
there remains an irreducible element of poetry, which refuses to be
translated into the language of scientific prose. Plato declares that
his account, so far from being exact, cannot even be consistent with
itself. The inexactness and inconsistency are inherent in the
nature of the subject ; they cannot be removed by 4 stripping off
the veil of allegory \ An allegory, like a cypher, has a key ; the
Pilgrim's Progress can be retranslated into the terms of Bunyan’s
theology. But there is no key to poetry or myth.

Plan of the Discourse . The discourse on the nature of the universe
and of man which now begins and continues without interruption
to the end of the dialogue, is divided into three main sections.

(1) The first (29D-47E) is described as containing the works of
Reason (ra dta Nov dedrjjutovQyrj/ueva, 47E), those elements in
the visible world, and especially in the heavens, which most clearly
manifest an intelligent and intelligible design. Here Plato ap-
proaches the world (so to say) from above, from the realm of the
benevolent maker and the Forms which provide his model. The
Demiurge himself is responsible for the main structure and ordered
movements of the world’s soul and body, and for the creation of
the heavenly gods : stars, planets, and Earth. These created gods
are then associated in the task of fashioning mankind and the other
animals. A preliminary account of the human soul, disordered
at its incarnation by the assaults of the material world, leads to
the physical mechanism of sense-perception. This is contrasted
with the rational purpose of sight and hearing, as revealing the order
and harmony which our souls need to relearn and re-establish in
themselves. The physical process whereby light acts upon the eyes
or sound upon the hearing is a secondary and subordinate type of
causation, the means by which the true purpose is attained. Such
causation is connected with the notion of Necessity, as opposed
to Reason.

(2) The second section (47E-69A) contains 4 what comes about
of Necessity ’ (ra <5 1’ ’ Avayxrjg yiyvofteva, 47E). Making a fresh
start, the discourse plunges into the obscure region of the bodily
and of blind causation, approaching the world this time from below.
A new factor, Space, is introduced, as the necessary condition or
medium in which Becoming images reality. The unlimited and

THE MOTIVE OF CREATION

unordered qualities and powers of the bodily are pictured as a
chaos. The Demiurge imposes upon them a rational element of
geometrical form in the shapes of the four primary bodies. The
properties of these regular figures are then connected with certain
qualities in the sensations we receive ; and so, from the opposite
pole, we return to the point of contact between the human organism
and the outer world, where the first part ended.

(3) In the third section (69A-end), the two strands of rational
purpose and necessity are woven together in a more detailed account
of the human frame, the working of its organs, and the disorders
of body and soul.

I. THE WORKS OF REASON
29D-30C. The motive of creation

Foreshadowing the contrast between rational purpose and the
blind operation of Necessity, Plato opens with the creator’s motive,
the true reason (atria) for the existence of an ordered world in the
realm of Becoming.

29D. Tim. Let us, then, state for what reason becoming and
E. this universe were framed by him who framed them. He
was good ; and in the good no jealousy in any matter can
ever arise. So, being without jealousy, he desired that all
things should come as near as possible to being like himself.
That this is the supremely valid principle of becoming and
of the order of the world, we shall most surely be right to
30. accept from men of understanding. Desiring, then, that all
things should be good and, so far as might be, nothing
imperfect, the god took over all that is visible — not at rest,
but in discordant and unordered motion — and brought it
from disorder into order, since he judged that order was in
every way the better.

Now it was not, nor can it ever be, permitted that the work
of the supremely good should be anything but that which
b. is best. Taking thought, therefore, he found that, among
things that are by nature visible, no work that is without
intelligence will ever be better than one that has intelligence,
when each is taken as a whole, and moreover that intelligence
cannot be present in anything apart from soul. In virtue
of this reasoning, when he framed the universe, he fashioned
reason within soul and soul within body, to the end that the
work he accomplished might be by nature as excellent and
33

THE DEMIURGE

29d-30c

30B. perfect as possible. This, then, is how we must say, accord- '
ing to the likely account, that this world came to be, by
the god’s providence, in very truth 1 a living creature with

c. soul and reason.

The Demiurge . The dialogue yields no more information about
the Demiurge than is conveyed in this passage. Here, then, we
may take up the question, how far this figure is mythical and what
it really stands for. The temptation to read into Plato’s words
modem ideas that are in fact foreign to his thought has proved too
much for some commentators.

Plato is introducing into philosophy for the first time the image
of a creator god. Recalling the punishment inflicted by jealous
Olympians upon Prometheus for his benefits to mankind, he denies,
as he had done before,2 the current notion that the gods grudge
to man a perfection and felicity like their own. The kernel of
Plato’s ethics is the doctrine that man’s reason is divine and that
his business is to become like the divine by reproducing in his
own nature the beauty and harmony revealed in the cosmos,
which is itself a god, a living creature with soul in body and reason
in soul, as here described. Hence he repudiates the old maxim
warning man not to provoke nemesis by harbouring aspirations
too high for mortals. Near the end of the dialogue he explicitly
enjoins the duty of ' thinking thoughts immortal and divine ’ and
endeavouring ‘ to possess immortality in the fullest measure that
human nature permits ’ (90c). By calling the Demiurge ungrudg-
ing, he may also imply that the imperfection of the world is due
to Necessity, not to the deliberate withholding of any excellence
that it might possess:

This is all that is meant by the statement, in the first paragraph,
that the god is not jealous or grudging. The reader must be warned
against importations from later theology. Professor Taylor, for
instance, after pointing out that Timaeus is thinking of the common
Greek view that the divine (to Oelov) is grudging in its bestowal
of good things, proceeds : ‘ So just because God is good, He does
not keep His blessedness selfishly to Himself. He seeks to make
something else as much like Himself in goodness. It is of the very
nature of goodness and love to “ overflow ”. This is why there
is a world and why, with all its defects, it is “ very good ” ’ (p. 78).
If this is intended as a paraphrase of Plato’s words, it is misleading.
There is, in the first place, no justification for the suggestion,

1 It is literally true (not merely ‘ probable ') that the world is an intelligent
living creature.

a Pkaedrus 247A, <f>6ovos yap cfco Octov x°P°G lorarcu.

THE DEMIURGE

conveyed by 4 God ’ with a capital letter, that Plato was a mono-
theist. He believed in the divinity of the world as a whole and
of the heavenly bodies. The Epinomis recommends the institution
of a cult of these celestial gods. Neither in the Timaeus nor
anywhere else is it suggested that the Demiurge should be an object
of worship : he is not a religious figure.1 He must, therefore, not
be equated with the one God of the Bible, who created the world
out of nothing and is also the supreme object of worship.2 Still
less is there the slightest warrant in Greek thought of the pre-
Christian centuries for the notion of 4 overflowing love *, or love of
any kind, prompting a god to make a world. It is not fair either
to Plato or to the New Testament to ascribe the most characteristic
revelations of the Founder of Christianity to a pagan polytheist.

The nature and position of the Demiurge cannot be finally
determined without considering that central utterance of the whole
dialogue which declares that the universe is produced by a combina-
tion of Reason and Necessity : 4 Reason overruled Necessity by
persuading her to guide the greatest part of the things that become
towards what is best ' (48A). When we come to that passage, we
shall ask what Necessity stands for, how Necessity can be 4 per-
suaded * by Reason, and why she should need to be persuaded.
Further on still (520), we shall find a more detailed picture of that
chaos of disorderly motions and powers which the Demiurge has
just been described as 4 taking over ' and reducing, so far as may
be, to order. Necessity and chaos are represented as factors in
the visible world which confront the divine intelligence, like the
given materials which the human craftsman must use as best he
can, though their properties may not be wholly suitable to his
purpose. It will be argued that this second factor in the world

1 The ‘ Maker ’ in some primitive mythologies has been similarly mis-
interpreted. Professor Nilsson writes : * Just as man arranges matters

as conveniently as he can to suit his simple needs, building a hut and
making his few tools, and just as the advance of culture is brought about
by culture-heroes, so, it is said, there was at the beginning of time some one,
though much more powerful than man, who arranged the world as con-
veniently as possible to supply man with all that he needed. This creator,
who is found among many primitive peoples, is called by the Australians
characteristically enough “the Maker “ (Baiame). He has also fixed the
customs and institutions of the tribe. At first sight it would seem as though
we had here a highly developed monotheistic type of divinity, but the idea
is in reality due to the indolence of primitive habits of thought. The creator
is a mythological, not a religious divinity ; and, therefore, he has no cult
and no one troubles about him' ( A History of Greek Religion, 1925* P* 72).

2 The contrast between the Demiurge and the Christian Creator is developed
in an interesting paper by Mr. M. B. Foster on Christian Theology and Modern
Science of Nature, Mind XLIV, 439 ff. and XLV, 1 ff.

" THE DEMIURGE

29d-30c

must not be explained away so as to give Plato's Demiurge the
status of the omnipotent Creator of Jewish-Christian theology.
We shall find that if Plato's language is to keep any substantial
meaning, we must not ascribe to him either the belief in an omni-
potent creator or the notion of natural law as a closed system of
causes and effects. His Necessity is irregular and disorderly, and
not inexorably determined, but open to the persuasion of Reason ;
and Reason has need to persuade her, not having unlimited power
to compel. This is not easy for us to understand ; but there is
no need to explain it away. The omnipotent Creator and the
modem notion of natural law were equally foreign to the minds
of ancient Greece. Galen truly observed that, with respect to
omnipotence, ' the doctrine of Moses differed from that of Plato
and of all the Greeks who have correctly approached the study of
Nature. For Moses, God has only to will to bring matter into
order, and matter is ordered immediately. We do not think in
that way ; we say that certain things are impossible by nature
and these God does not even attempt ; he only chooses the best
among the things that come about ' (U.P. xi, 14). To this I would
add a quotation from Professor G. C. Field.1 He points out that
omnipotence is incompatible with the ordinary and familiar notion
of purpose, which we never regard as a complete and sufficient
explanation of anything : ' it is always purpose working in certain
materials, or under certain conditions, which make it intelligible
why this had to be done rather than that in order to fulfil the
purpose '. He concludes that the appeal to purpose as a satisfying
principle of explanation ' cannot claim to be decisively established,
and if it points to anything, it points in the direction of a God or
a Highest Purpose working in a universe which includes him as a
part only of the whole, and a part which, however powerful and
important, is at some point limited and restricted by other elements
in the whole. I do not myself see any insuperable philosophic
objection to such an idea. It appealed, if I interpret him aright,
to Plato, in the final development of his doctrine.'

This conclusion is unquestionably consistent with what Plato
actually says. Again and again, throughout the Timaeus, we are
told that the benevolent Demiurge designed that such and such an
arrangement should be ' as good as possible ', with the clear implica-
tion that his purpose was restricted by that other factor called
Necessity. We must accept this, on pain of reducing much of his
language to nonsense. There is nothing against it, except the
desire to bring Plato into conformity with Christian doctrine or

1 From an interesting essay on Modern Proofs of the Existence of God in
Studies in Philosophy (1935), pp- 122 ff.

THE DEMIURGE

with some modem form of idealism. If this desire is brought into
consciousness, it can be resisted ; for to yield to it is to do Plato
no service. If we make his Demiurge omnipotent and at the same
time attribute to him the modem conception of natural law, we
shall involve him in the nineteenth-century ‘ conflict of religion
and science ' ; for this arose largely out of the attempt to believe
at once in the providence of an all-powerful God and in a completely
determined chain of causes and effects which left no room for his
intervention.

Here, then, we may conclude that Plato's Demiurge, like the
human craftsman in whose image he is conceived, operates upon
materials which he does not create, and whose inherent nature sets
a limit to his desire for perfection in his work. He has been
pictured as confronted with ' all that is visible ' in a chaos of dis-
orderly motion. For this disorder he is not responsible, but only
for those features of order and intelligible design which he proceeds
to introduce, ' so far as he can \ These form the subject of the
first part of the discourse. In the second part it will be made
clear that the Demiurge is not the sole cause of Becoming. There
are secondary causes, partly but not wholly amenable to the per-
suasion of Reason. Nor does the Demiurge create that Receptacle
of Becoming in which the images of the Forms are mirrored. This
is not mentioned among the works of Reason ; it is as independent
of the Demiurge as the world of Forms. The Forms, again, he
does not create ; they are not made or generated, but eternally
real and self-subsisting. The function of the Demiurge is to
contribute an element of order to Becoming, because an ordered
world will be more * like himself ', that is to say, better, than a
disorderly one.

We shall be led to the conclusion that both the Demiurge and
chaos are symbols : neither is to be taken quite literally, yet both
stand for real elements in the world as it exists. If there was
never a moment of creation, chaos cannot have existed before that
moment ; and this part of the mythical imagery is not to be taken
at its face value. But what was later called ‘ matter ' is the subject
of the second part of the dialogue, not to be anticipated here.
We can only remark that chaos, if it never existed before cosmos,
must stand for some element that is now and always present in
the working of the universe. Its nature will be disclosed in the
analysis of ' what comes about of Necessity \1

1 Against Plutarch and Atticus, who took the pre-existing chaos literally,
Proclus (i, 382) cites Porphyry and Iamblichus : * They say that Plato,
desiring to exhibit the Maker’s providence descending into the universe, the
government of reason and the presence of soul, and all the great benefits

THE DEMIURGE

29d-30c

It may equally be said of the Demiurge that, as a mythical
symbol, he must stand for something that is seriously meant.
He is mythical in that he is not really a creator god, distinct from
the universe he is represented as making. He is never spoken of
as a possible object of worship ; and in the third part of the dialogue
the distinction between the Demiurge and the celestial gods, whom
he makes and charges with the continuation of his work, is obliter-
ated.1 The evidences, of design in the human frame are there
attributed sometimes to ' the god sometimes to the celestial gods,
who are the stars, planets, and Earth. On the other hand, there
is no doubt that he stands for a divine Reason working for ends
that are good. The whole purpose of the Timaeus is to teach
men to regard the universe as revealing the operation of such a
Reason, not as the fortuitous outcome of blind and aimless bodily
motions. If this Reason is not a creator god, standing apart from
his model and materials, where is it to be found ? Now this is
precisely the question which Plato has refused to answer. It is
a hard task, he says, to find the maker and father of this universe,
and having found him it would be impossible to declare him to
all mankind. This can only mean that the mythical imagery is
not a ' veil of allegory 1 that we can tear aside and be sure of dis-
covering behind it a literal meaning which Plato himself would
endorse. Commentators have not hesitated to essay this ‘ im-
possible ' task ; but the bewildering variety of their disclosures
lends little encouragement for a further venture, and gives rise to
a suspicion that each has found what he set out to look for.

We shall be on safer ground if we turn from the maker to con-
sider what Plato says here about his work. The visible universe
is a living creature, having soul (ywxtf) in body and reason (vovg) in
soul. It is called a god (34B) in the same sense in which the term
is applied to the stars, planets, and Earth — the 1 heavenly gods \
All these gods are everlasting, coeval with time itself ; though
theoretically dissoluble, because composite of reason, soul, and
body, they will never actually be dissolved (41B). Man is also
composed of reason, soul, and body ; but his body will be dissolved

these confer upon the cosmos, first contemplates the whole bodily frame by
itself in its disharmony and disorder, so that you may see also by itself the
order due to soul and to the disposition of the creator, and distinguish the
nature of the bodily in itself from the nature of the created order. The
cosmos itself exists everlastingly ; but the discourse distinguishes that which
becomes from its maker and introduces in temporal order things that coexist
simultaneously, because whatsoever is generated is composite/

1 On one such passage Tr. says : ‘ Passages like the present show how far
he is from meaning his polytheistic phrases to be taken au pied de la lettre *
(p. 549). Substitute ‘ monotheistic \ and the remark will be equally true.

THE CREATOR’S MODEL

back into the elements, and the two lower parts of his soul are
also mortal. Only the divine reason in him is imperishable.
There is thus a contrast between macrocosm and microcosm, but
also an analogy, which runs all through the discourse. The world
itself, like the heavenly gods and man, is divine because it contains
the divine element, reason. Reason, moreover, as Plato says here
and elsewhere, ' cannot be present in anything apart from soul ' :
if it is ‘ present ’ in the body of the universe and in man’s body,
that body must be alive, endowed with soul, which is defined in
the Laws and the Phaedrus as the self-moving source of all motion.
The statement is consistent with the belief that the reason, as
divine and immortal, can nevertheless exist in separation from the
body and divested of the mortal parts of soul. There is, then, in the
soul and body of the universe a divine Reason analogous to man’s ;
and we shall find that the unchanging movement of its thought is
symbolised, or even visibly embodied, in the circular revolutions
of the heavenly gods and of the universe as a whole.

We may ask how this divine Reason in the world is related to
that divine Reason which is symbolised by the Demiurge. Can
we simply identify the two ? In that case the Demiurge will no
longer stand for anything distinct from the world he is represented
as making. The desire for goodness will then reside in the World-
Soul : the universe will aspire towards the perfection of its model
in the realm of Forms, and the model will hold a position analogous
to that of Aristotle’s Unmoved Mover, who causes motion as the
object of desire.1 But this solution of the problem is no more
warranted by Plato himself than others that can be supported by
a suitable selection of texts. We shall do better to hold back
from this or any other conclusion and confine our attention to
the world with its body and soul and the reason they contain.

30C-31A. The creator's model

The visible world has been declared to be a living creature made
after the likeness of an eternal original. This model is now further
described. It can only be the ideal Living Creature in the world
of Forms, not to be identified with any species of animate being,
but embracing the ideal types of all such species, ‘ all the intelligible
living creatures '.

30c. This being premised, we have now to state what follows
next : What was the living creature in whose likeness he

1 It has been observed that Aristotle's personified Nature, who aims at a
purpose and does nothing in vain, may be regarded as equivalent to Plato's
Demiurge.

THE CREATOR'S MODEL 30c-31a

30c. framed the world ? We must not suppose that it was any
creature that ranks only as a species 1 ; for no copy of that
which is incomplete can ever be good. Let us Tather say
that the world is like, above all things, to that Living Creature
of which all other living creatures, severally and in their
families, are parts. For that embraces and contains within

D. itself all the intelligible living creatures, just as this world
contains ourselves and all other creatures that have been
formed as things visible. For the god, wishing to make
this world most nearly like that intelligible thing which is
best and in every way complete, fashioned it as a single
visible living creature, containing within itself all living
31. things whose nature is of the same order.

We have seen that, although the creator god, as such, is a mythical
figure, the relation of likeness to model none the less subsists
between the visible world and the intelligible. The model is not
a piece of mythical machinery. The visible world, being ‘ in very
truth ’ a living creature with soul and body, has for its original a
complex Form, or system of Forms, called ‘ the intelligible Living
Creature \ This is a generic Form containing within itself the
Forms of all the subordinate species, members of which inhabit the
visible world. The four main families,2 * contained in the Living
Creature that truly is ’, are enumerated at 39E : the heavenly gods
(stars, planets, and Earth), the birds of the air, the fishes of the
sea, and the animals which move on the dry land. These main
types, as well as the indivisible species of living creatures and their
specific differences, are all, in Platonic terms, ‘ parts ’ into which
the generic Form of Living Creature can be divided by the dialectical
procedure of Division (dtacQeaig). The generic Form must be con-
ceived, not as a bare abstraction obtained by leaving out all the
specific differences determining the subordinate species, but as a
whole, richer in content than any of the parts it contains and
embraces.3 It is an eternal and unchanging object of thought,
not itself a living creature, any more than the Form of Man is a
man. It is not a soul, nor has it a body or any existence in space
or time. Its eternal being is in the realm of Forms.

Plato does not say, here or elsewhere, that this generic Form of
Living Creature contains anything more than all the subordinate
generic and specific Forms and differences that would appear in

or popiov, ‘ part is Plato's normal term for ‘ species

8 This is the probable meaning of yevrj in ko.6 * cv teal Kara y4vrj (30A, 6) ;
Kaff Iv wiU mean the Forms of indivisible species, a class of Forms explicitly
recognised at Philebus, 15A.

8 Cf. F. M. Cornford, Plato's Theory of Knowledge (1935) , pp. 268 ff.

ONE WORLD, NOT MANY

the complete definitions of all the species of living creatures existing
in our world, including the created gods. We have no warrant for
identifying it with the entire system of Forms, or with the Form
of the Good in the Republic , or for supposing that it includes the
moral Forms of dialectic or the mathematical Forms, or even the
Forms of the four primary bodies, whose existence is specially
affirmed at 51 b ff. Plato looks upon the whole visible universe as
an animate being whose parts are also animate beings. The
intelligible Living Creature corresponds to it, whole to whole, and
part to part. It is the system of Forms that are, together with
the Forms of the four primary bodies, relevant to a physical dis-
course, because they are the patterns of which the things we see
and touch are sensible images, coming to be and passing away in
time and space. We are not here concerned with the moral Forms,
of which there are no sensible images (Phaedrus 250D).

The model, as strictly eternal, is independent of the Demiurge,
whose function is to be the cause, not of eternal Being, but only
of order in the realm of Becoming. However we may interpret
the divine Reason symbolised by the Demiurge, this model is one
among the objects of its thought. It is the ideal, whose perfection
the visible universe, as a living being, is to reproduce in its own
structure, so far as is permitted by the conditions of temporal
existence in space. 4 Intelligible * means that it is an object of
rational thought, divine or human. Plato gives no more ground
for supposing that the divine Reason creates its objects by ‘ think-
ing ' them than for supposing that our own reasons create these
same objects when we think of them. The Forms are always
spoken of as existing eternally in their own right.

31A-B. One world , not many

The concluding words of the last paragraph spoke of the world
as a single living creature. This suggests the possibility that there
should be more than one copy of the model — a plurality of visible
worlds.

31A. Have we, then, been right to call it one Heaven, or would
it have been true rather to speak of many and indeed of an
indefinite number ? One we must call it, if we are to hold
that it was made according to its pattern. For that which
embraces 1 all the intelligible living creatures that there are,
cannot be one of a pair ; for then there would have to be

1 TT^pUx^iv is used of the whole which * includes ' all its parts, e.g. Soph .
2 5 3D. This use has nothing to do with the Ionian use of 7 rcpifyov for the
element which extends beyond and ‘ encompasses * the world, referred to in
Tr.’s note.

ONE WORLD, NOT MANY 31a-b

31A. yet another Living Creature embracing those two, and they
would be parts of it ; and thus our world would be more
truly described as a likeness, not of them, but of that other
B. which would embrace them. Accordingly, to the end that
this world may be like the complete Living Creature in
respect of its uniqueness, for that reason its maker did not
make two worlds nor yet an indefinite number ; but this
Heaven has come to be and is and shall be hereafter one and
unique.1

There is no satisfactory evidence for the doctrine of a plurality
of coexisting worlds before the atomism of Leucippus in the second
half of the fifth century.2 The Atomists’ belief in innumerable
worlds, some always coming into existence, others passing away,
was an inference from their assertion of a strictly infinite void
partly occupied by an illimitable number of atoms in motion.
It was probable, they argued, that world-forming vortices would
arise at any number of different places. Granted that our world
is finite, that there is unlimited space outside its boundary, and
that there are materials left over, from which other worlds might
be formed, why should there not be any number of copies of the
same model ? The world, according to Plato, is finite. On the
other hand, like Aristotle, he would have denied an unlimited void
outside ; and he certainly denies that any materials are left over
(32c ff.). The point, however, is not argued on those grounds here.
He is not offering a proof that there cannot be more than one
world ; he merely asserts that only one was made, because it
seemed better that the copy should be unique, like the model.
His argument is : (1) The model must be all-inclusive (navrekdg),
containing all the species of animal that there are ; otherwise our
world, being a copy of it, would not be as perfect as it might be.
(2) There cannot be a second all-inclusive model ; for then the two
models would be duplicate instances of the same Form, and that
Form would become the true model. The model, therefore, is

1 I cannot see in yeyovajs Zonv nal «r* ecrrai any more than * has been
and is and shall be ' or ‘ is at all times though the word yeyovats preserves
the fiction of creation. Cf. 38c ycyova>s tc koX wv koX eaofxevos. Tr. dis-
covers an allusion to a doctrine of y^ueais ctV ovalav in the Philebus, which
' Timaeus is not allowed to explain but only to imply because ‘ the clear
conception of a ycyevrjutvr) ovaia is a result of Plato's own personal thought \
which a fifth-century Pythagorean has no business to know about. But
the doctrine of the Philebus should not be read into this simple phrase. All
the emphasis falls on ‘ one and unique ', as in Tr.’s translation : ‘ sole and
single this our heaven came into being, sole it is, and sole it shall remain \

* I have discussed this question in detail in Classical Quarterly, XXVIII

(1934). pp- 1 ff-

THE WORLD’S BODY

(like every other Form) unique. (3) The last sentence does not
say that there cannot be more than one copy of a unique model
(which is obviously untrue),1 but that the creator made only one
copy ‘ in order that ’ the world should resemble its model ‘ in respect
of its uniqueness \ Uniqueness is a perfection, and the world is
the better for possessing it. One reason why it is better is given
later : if the world were not unique, there would be body left
outside it, whose ' strong powers ’ might impair its life and even
destroy it (33 a). It is for this reason that this world * having
come into being one and unique, is and shall be so hereafter \
These final words deny both the innumerable coexisting worlds of
the Atomists and the succession of single worlds which had figured
in some Ionian systems and in Empedocles. Plato’s single world
is everlasting.

THE BODY OF THE WORLD

31B-32C. Why this consists of four primary bodies
The next section (31B-34A) is concerned with the body of the
Universe. Although soul is later declared to be prior to body,
the making of the body is taken first for convenience. The present
paragraph explains why not less than four primary bodies — fire,
air, water, earth — were required, in order to give it the highest
measure of unity. This attribute of internal unity follows naturally
after the unity, in the sense of uniqueness, asserted in the previous
paragraph. The primary bodies are here imagined as materials
ready to be ‘ put together ’ (awiaravai) by the builder’s hand.
The formation of them by the imposition of regular geometrical
shape upon their unordered motions and powers belongs to the
second part of the dialogue. There is no reference here to those
geometrical shapes, of which nothing has yet been heard. All
that the Demiurge does now is to fix their quantities in a certain
definite proportion. This is an element of rational design in the
structure of the world’s body, and it belongs here among the works
of Reason.

31B. Now that which comes to be 2 must be bodily, and so visible
and tangible ; and nothing can be visible without fire, or

1 There is, accordingly, no ground for Tr/s accusation that Plato has ' con-
fused the principle of the “ uniformity ” of nature with the assertion that
there is only one “ stellar system " ' (p. 85).

2 If to yevofxevov means * the world which came into being * we should
expect e8et, and perhaps r* ISet should be read for re Set (cf. Chalcidius,
erat merito futurus and 32B artpeoeiBrj yap avrov 7rpoa^K€v chat, ). Pr. ii, 380
(lemma) has yiyvo^vov, which suits the present Bet. Contrast his paraphrase,

yap I8et tov Koap.ov ovra yevrjTov oparov etva t teal airrov (ii, 17T

THE WORLD'S BODY

31b-32c

31B. tangible without something solid,1 and nothing is solid with-
out earth. Hence the god, when he began to put together
the body of the universe, set about making it of fire and
earth. But two things alone cannot be satisfactorily united

c. without a third ; for there must be some bond between them
drawing them together. And of all bonds the best is that
which makes itself and the terms it connects a unity in the
fullest sense ; and it is of the nature of a continued geometrical
proportion 2 to effect this most perfectly. For whenever, of
32. three numbers, the middle one between any two that are
either solids (cubes ?) or squares 3 is such that, as the first
is to it, so is it to the last, and conversely as the last is to
the middle, so is the middle to the first, then since the middle
becomes first and last, and again the last and first become
middle, in that way all will necessarily come to play the
same part towards one another, and by so doing they will
all make a unity.

Now if it had been required that the body of the universe
should be a plane surface with no depth, a single mean

b. would have been enough to connect its companions and
itself ; but in fact the world was to be solid in form, and
solids are always conjoined, not by one mean, but by two.
Accordingly the god set water and air between fire and
earth, and made them, so far as was possible, proportional
to one another, so that as fire is to air, so is air to water,
and as air is to water, so is water to earth, and thus he bound
together the frame of a world visible and tangible.

For these reasons and from such constituents, four in

c. number, the body of the universe was brought into being,
coming into concord by means of proportion, and from
these it acquired Amity,4 so that coming into unity with

1 Solid, i.e. resistant to touch (Pr. ii, 12 ai).

2 That dvaXoyla means this type of proportion par excellence will be
explained below.

8 The reason for taking the genitives eire oyKtov cit€ SwafJLetov (bvrivaivovv as
depending on to fjUaov will be explained below (p. 47). Grammatically, the
words can be construed : (1) ‘ Whenever of any three numbers, whether solids
or squares, the middle one is such . . .* (So Heath, A.-H.), or (2) ‘ Whenever
of any three numbers or solids or squares the middle one is such ' . . . ,
taking * numbers ’ to mean numbers that are neither squares nor solids.

4 A reference to the Philia of Empedocles’ system. But there is no contrary
principle of Neikos in Plato's scheme, and hence no periodic destruction of
the world. Cf. Gorg. 508 a : the wise say that heaven and earth, gods and
men, are held together by and Koofuonjs — a truth which has escaped

Callicles because he has neglected geometry and not perceived the significance
of geometrical proportion (1} Io6ttjs 1

THE WORLD'S BODY

32c. itself it became indissoluble by any other save him who
bound it together,

Empedocles had taken the four elements as given fact ; Plato
deduces the need of four primary and simple bodies by an argument.
(1) There must be two (not one primary form of matter, as the
Ionian monists had held), because fire is needed to make the world's
body visible, earth to make it resistant to touch. Fire and earth
had been commonly regarded as the two extreme elements, since
fire belongs to the heavens, and air and water are between Heaven
and Earth. (2) But two cannot hold together without a third to
serve as bond. The three must be in proportion, and the most
perfect bond is that proportion which makes the most perfect unity
out of mean and extremes. (3) The most perfect type of pro-
portion is the continued geometrical proportion ( avakoyia ), which
Plato next proceeds to define. That geometrical proportion was
the proportion par excellence and primary, all other types of pro-
portion being derivable from it, was stated by Adrastus, the
Peripatetic (early second century a.d.), who wrote a commentary
on the Timaeus, parts of which are preserved byTheon of Smyrna.1
If we ignore for the moment the words ehe dyxcov elre dwa/aecov,
which specify certain classes of numbers,2 the sentence simply
gives a definition of a continued geometrical proportion with three
terms. Take the progression 2, 4, 8 for purposes of illustration.
The terms are related so that ‘ as the first is to the middle,
so is the middle to the last (2:4 = 418), and conversely, as the
last is to the middle, so is the middle to the first ' (814 = 4:2).
Then ‘ the middle becomes first and last, and again the last and
the first both become middle ’ (4 : 8 = 2 : 4 or 4 : 2 = 8 : 4). Thus
any of the three can stand as first or as last or as middle, and the
unity they constitute is as perfect as possible. (4) Three terms, how-
ever, are not enough, because all the primary bodies are solids, and
must accordingly be represented by solid numbers (a solid number

1 The statement is repeated by Nicomachus (Introd. Arith. ii, 24, p. 126
Hoche), by Iamblichus (in Nicom. Ay. Introd., p. 100 Pistelli, as ‘ an opinion
of the ancients and p. 104 citing our passage), and by Pr. ii, 20 (referring
to Nicomachus). Cf. Heath, Euclid, ii, 292. Pr. records the (obviously
correct) view that Plato here speaks of geometrical proportion only. Others,
with whom Proclus himself agrees, made an unfortunate attempt to drag in
arithmetical and harmonic proportion, connected with the false notion that
BvpdfjLcis in our passage has a physical sense, and means the sensible qualities
elsewhere called ‘powers ’ (cf. Chalcid, p. 86, and Occelus, ii). Such qualities
(pairs of opposites) form, in Plato's view, an dneipov, and could not possibly
stand as terms in a numerical proportion.

2 These words are omitted by Tim. Locr. 95, who has simply rpuov d>vnva)vuiv

opcov.

P.C.

THE WORLD’S BODY 31b-32c

is the product of three numbers). To connect two plane numbers
a single mean is sufficient ; but if fire and earth, the extremes, are
to be connected, two means will be required.

As the ancients saw, this last statement is true only if the plane
and solid numbers in question are ' similar ’ (i.e. having their sides
proportional) — a class which includes all squares and cubes. Some
held that Plato meant it to be taken for granted that the terms
in his proportion are all similar numbers 1 ; but he has not said so.
It has, accordingly, been inferred that the words she Syxcov she
dwajuecov, which serve no purpose in a mere description of a geo-
metrical proportion with three terms, were inserted in order to
restrict the numbers in question to cubes and squares. Sir Thomas
Heath writes : 2

' It is well-known that the mathematics of Plato’s Timaeus
is essentially Pythagorean. It is therefore d priori probable (if
not perhaps quite certain) that Plato nvOayoqi^ei even in the
passage (32 A, b) where he speaks of numbers “ whether solid or
square ” in continued proportion, and proceeds to say that
between planes one mean suffices, but to connect two solids
two means are necessary. This passage has been much discussed,
but I think that by “ planes ” and 0 solids ” Plato certainly
meant square and solid numbers respectively, so that the allusion
must be to the theorems established in Eucl. viii, n, 12, that
between two square numbers there is one mean proportional
number and between two cube numbers there are two mean
proportional numbers.’

In a note Heath adds :

* It is true that similar plane and solid numbers have the
same property (Eucl. viii. 18, 19) ; but, if Plato had meant
similar plane and solid numbers generally, I think it would have
been necessary to specify that they were “ similar ”, whereas,
seeing that the Timaeus is as a whole concerned with regular
figures, there is nothing unnatural in allowing regular or equilateral
to be understood. Further, Plato speaks first of dwa/ueig and
oyxoi and then of " planes ” (inbieda) and “ solids ” (oreQed) in
such a way as to suggest that dvvdfieig correspond to imneda and
oyxoi to oteqed . Now the regular meaning of Svvafug is square
(or sometimes square root), and I think it is here used in the
sense of square , notwithstanding that Plato seems to speak of
three squares in continued proportion, whereas, in general, the

1 See Pr. ii, 2918 and 33*° (quoting Democritus, the third-century Platonist) .

8 Thirteen Books of Euclid, ii, p. 294.

THE WORLD'S BODY

mean between two squares as extremes would not be square but
oblong. And, if d'uvdjueig are squares, it is reasonable to suppose
that the Syxoi are also equilateral, i.e. the " solids " are cubes/

Elsewhere 1 Heath writes :

* By planes and solids he- [Plato in this passage] really means
square and cube numbers, and his remark is equivalent to stating
that, if p 2, q 2 are two square numbers,
p2:pq = pq: q\
while, if pzf qz are two cube numbers,

pz : p*q = p*q ; pq 2 = pq 2 : q*t

the means being of course in continued geometric proportion.
Euclid proves the properties for square and cube numbers in
viii. 11, 12 and for similar plane and solid numbers in viii. 18, 19.
Nicomachus (ii. 24, 6, 7) quotes the substance of Plato's remark
as a “ Platonic theorem ", adding in explanation the equivalent
of Eucl. viii. 11, 12/

This interpretation of the ambiguous words oyxoi and
as ‘ cubes ' and ‘ squares ' seems to be better supported than any
other. It rules out the notion that oyxoi and dwa/ueig are alterna-
tives to aqidfjioi They are subdivisions of ‘ numbers ', restricting
the statement to cubes and squares, for the sake of the subsequent
statement about one mean connecting squares, two means connecting
cubes. The objection stated by Heath, that ‘ Plato seems to speak
of three squares in continued proportion, whereas in general the
mean between two squares as extremes would not be square but
oblong ', can be obviated by construing the genitives sire dyxcov
Eire dvvdjLiEcov (bvnvcovovv not (as is commonly done) as in apposi-
tion to dgid/acov, but as depending on to [Jiioov. The effect is
to make the limitation to cubes and squares apply only to the
extremes. Here, as in many other places, Plato is compressing his
statement of technical matters to such a point that only expert
readers would fully appreciate his meaning.

The interpretation can be further supported by a consideration
of Adrastus' treatment of geometrical proportion.2 He says that
geometrical proportion is the only proportion in the full and proper
sense (xvqicog) and the primary one, because all the others require

it, but it does not require them. The first ratio is equality

the element of all other ratios and of the proportions they yield.
1 Greek Mathematics , i. 89.

* Theon (p. 177, Dupuis) quotes the passage in full. It is presumably
taken from Adrastus’ commentary on our passage.

THE WORLD’S BODY

31b~32c

He then derives a whole series of geometrical proportions from ‘ the
proportion with equal terms * (i, i, i) according to the following
law :

Given three terms in continued proportion, if you take three
other terms formed of these, one equal to the first, another com-
posed of the first and the second, and another composed of the
first and twice the second and the third, these new terms will be
in continued proportion.

In this manner, from the proportion with equal terms arises the
double proportion, and from that the triple, and so on, as follows.
Take the equal proportion with the smallest possible terms, i, i, i.
Then take three terms according to the above rule :

I, 1 + 1 = 2, 1 + 2 + 1= 4-

This is the double proportion, i, 2, 4 . . . etc. Now take 1, 2, 4
and proceed in the same way :

1, 2 + 1 = 3, 1+4 + 4 = 9.

This is the triple proportion 1, 3, 9 . . . etc. By continuing the
process we obtain :

1, 1, 1
1, 2, 4

+ 3> 9
1, 4, 16

L 5» 25
1, 6, 36

x> 1> 49
1, 8, 64
1, 9, 81
1, 10, 100

(Note that Adrastus stops at the perfect number 10. *) He then
shows how the other, less perfect, kinds of proportion can be derived
from these geometrical proportions.

The numbers in the third column are squares (dwa/xeig) , those
in the second column are the roots of these squares. Square roots
also were sometimes called dwafieig. The underlying notion seems
to be that any number (represented by a line) has, in itself and
without the aid of any other factor, the power of multiplying itself
or generating its own square by advancing as far as its own length
into the second dimension. Hence a line is said dvvaadai the square

1 Cf. Pr. i, 147, 17 iox&rr) npooSos rrjs Sc/caSos vn^onjoc rov

THE WORLD'S BODY

plane figure it thus generates.1 So the root number is the first
* power ', dvvafug ; the corresponding line is properly called dwapidvr).
Avvapug is more commonly applied to the square, in which this
potency of the root is developed or deployed. Hence the square
is the * second power \ The square contains the power that can
be further deployed when the square advances into the third
dimension and produces the .cube, or third power .2 If we now
continue Adrastus' geometrical proportions, we shall next reach
the cube. Taking the double and triple proportions, we have

i, 2, 4, 8
L 3> 9> 2 7

These are the two series that Plato takes later (35B) as the basis
for the harmony of the World-Soul. Both series emanate from
unity, in which all the ‘ powers ' concerned are conceived as gathered
up. The series proceed through the first even, and the first odd,
number to their squares and cubes. Plato's later use of these two
progressions makes it probable that he had them in mind in our
passage.3 He would certainly choose a progression of what was
held to be the most perfect type.4

Nicomachus, in his chapter on continuous geometrical proportion
(ii, 24), repeats that this is the only proportion in the most proper
sense (xvQtcog xaXovfievrj) and gives the same examples : 4 the

numbers proceeding from unity according to the double proportion ' :

1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64 . . .
and the triple proportion :

1, 3, 9> 27>- 81, 243 . . .

and so on with the quadruple proportion, etc. He points out that
the terms in these proportions have the properties Plato mentions,
and later speaks of 4 the Platonic theorem, that the plane numbers

1 Plato, Theaet. 148B, 8uva//.€ts, ov avmilrpovs ckcIvclis, rots 8* «

a Svvavrai. Alex, in Met. 1019b, 32.

2 The Epinomis 990D calls cube numbers rovs rpls i]v(r)n evovs kcu Tjj
orepeq. <f>vo€i ofiolovs . At Rep. 52 8b stereometry is described as concerned
with ‘ cubic increase (kv^cjv a v&v) and that which has depth \ as if the cube
were the primary solid. See Stenzel, Zahl u. Gestalt 89 ff.

3 Cf. also Epinomis 991 a. * The first progression of the double proceeds
in the integer series (kut aptOpov) in the ratio 1:2; double is the ratio of
their second powers (17 Kara Svvapuv) ; the progression of the solid and
tangible is again a double, the progression from one to eight * (trans. Harward).
This progression 1, 2, 4, 8 is then used to construct the musical scale.

4 It would not occur to the modern mathematician, who uses algebraic
symbols, that one type of geometrical progression could be more perfect or
better deserving of the name than another. For this reason algebraic symbols
should not be employed in interpreting such a passage as ours.

THE WORLD’S BODY 31b-32c

are held together by one mean, the solids by two standing in pro-
portion : for between two consecutive squares will be found only
one mean preserving the geometrical proportion . . , and between
two consecutive cubes only two \

This is true of all proportions of the above pattern : e.g.

root

square

cube

square

solid

J square
\ cube

solid

square

cube

128

256

512. .

(2*)

(2»)

(4s)

(8»)

(48)

(16’)

(8»)

The special points of this pattern are : (i) All the plane numbers
are squares ; there are no oblongs. Oblongs, such as 6 (2 X 3)
appear only in geometrical progressions of a less perfect kind (e.g.
4 : 6 = 6 : 9), which do not proceed by the self -multiplication of
a single root number, but involve a second root. Also such pro-
gressions cannot be continued to four and more terms without
introducing fractions. If Plato had the perfect pattern in mind,
he could substitute 4 plane ' for 4 square \ as he does. Each two
successive planes (squares) are connected by a single mean. (2)
All the numbers which are not squares are solid ; and each two
successive cubes are connected by two means. If dyxoc does mean
4 cubes then the 4 solids ' of the last sentence have been restricted
to cubes by the insertion of she fiyxcov eXxe dvvajuecuv, and we
must understand ra oxegea as meaning 4 the solids above spoken
of as oyxoi to the exclusion of the non-cube solids. The last
sentence will then be true and all will be in order.1

1 The only evidence I can find for oyKos as the older term for tcvpos is in
Simplicius, Phys. 1016, 23, commenting on Zeno’s paradox of the Stadium,
where Zeno appears to have used oytcoi for the bodies which pass one another
on the race-course (Ar., Phys. 239 b, 33). Simplicius records that Eudemus,
in his account of Zeno’s argument, substituted Kvpoi for oy*ot. Eudemus
may have understood oynot in Zeno as meaning ' cubes ' (the obviously
appropriate figure). It may be added that some of the older terms in Greek
mathematics have biological associations : xpoux (skin) for surface, hvvayus
(power) for square, avfr] (growth) for dimension, acD/xa (body) for solid. These
terms were applied to numbers as well as to figures. They were taken from
living things and fit in with the Pythagorean conception of the unit as the
f seed (arripyLa) or eternal root (p/£a) from which ratios grow or increase
(av^ovrax) reciprocally on either side ' (Iambi, in Nicom., p. 11 Pistelli). The
unit contains potentially (Suvapci) all the forms of even and odd number,
' as being a sort of fountain (rrqyfj) or root (pitfl) of both kinds ' (ibid., p. 15).
If the seed or root contains the latent power (Bvvafus) of growth, its first increase
is the line ; its second, the second power of the square, a skin (surface) . The
most natural term for the third increase would be oyKos, ‘ swelling ', ‘ bulk \
The square has the power of * swelling itself out * (oytcovodcu) into the cube —
the first body reached in the above progressions. When geometry became
distinct from arithmetic, a fresh series of terms was borrowed from the

THE WORLD'S BODY

Plato has not indicated what are the quantities between which
his geometrical proportion holds.1 It cannot be connected with
the construction of the four regular solids which are later assigned
to the primary bodies ; the proportion does not fit any of the sets
of numbers there involved. It may be conjectured that the quan-
tities in question are the total volumes of the four primary bodies.
Empedocles had made his four elements equal in amount ; 2 but
since his time it had been realised that the world was much larger
than had been supposed.3 Since the heavenly bodies are composed
mostly of fire, it is natural to suppose that the total volume of fire
is much greater than that of earth. The largest number would
then represent the volume of fire, the smallest that of earth. Plato
would not imagine that anyone could know what the actual quan-
tities were. He is only convinced that they must be linked in
some definite proportion, evincing a rational design. This he asserts
against the old Ionian belief in an indefinite quantity of matter,
and the Atomists’ belief in an infinite plurality of atoms. If body
were thus indefinite and unlimited, there would be nothing to hold
the world together ; and in fact the Ionians and the Atomists had
believed that their successive or coexistent worlds did fall to pieces
and relapse into disorder. Plato's main point is emphasised in
the concluding sentence : the world’s body, consisting of neither

shapes of diagrams and of models in three dimensions : imncbov
plane figure) for surface ; rcrpaycuvov (four-cornered figure) for square ;
5tac rraois, Statmj/xa (extension, interval) for dimension ; crrepeov (solid
figure) for body ; and perhaps we may add KvfSo s (die) for cube (< oyicos ) . Theon
(p. 159) gives, as sixth in his list of 11 tetractyes, * the tetractys of things that
are born and grow (tojv (f>vop,4vci)v ) : the seed is analogous to the unit or point,
growth in length to the number 2 or the line, growth in breadth to the number
3 or the surface ; growth in thickness to the number 4 or solid ’.

1 Theon (pp. 155 ff.), following Pythagorean sources, enumerates n tetractyes.
(There should be only 10, the perfect number ; Theon interpolates Plato’s
complex series composed of the two progressions 1, 2, 4, 8 and 1, 3, 9, 27,
used for the harmony of the world-soul, 35B). The third is (1) point, (2) line,
(3) surface, (4) solid. The fourth is ‘ the tetractys of the simple bodies :
(1) fire, (2) air, (3) water, (4) earth \ ‘ For such is the nature of the elements

in respect of the fineness or coarseness of their parts ( Kara X tirropiepciav Kal
naxvp.€p€iav) , so that fire is to air as 1 to 2 ’, and so on. But Plato gives no
ground for this interpretation, which ignores the fact that 1, 2, 3, 4 is not
a geometrical progression.

a Hirzel, Themis 309, observes : Gleichheit der elementaren Massen ahnte
schon das alteste Denken in der Welt’, and compares Hesiod, Theog. 126,
Taca . . . iycivaro tcrov eairrfj Ovpavov and Soph., El. 87, yrjs laop.oip* aijp. I
owe this reference to Mr. J. S. Morrison.

8 Anaxagoras supposed the Sun to be about the size of the Peloponnese,
but Archytas estimated the distance of the Sun from the Earth as nine times
the distance of the Moon. Epinomis 983A says that the Sun is larger than
the Earth, and all the heavenly bodies are of stupendous size.

THE WORLD’S BODY 32c-33b

less nor more than four primary bodies, whose quantities are limited
and linked in the most perfect proportion, is in unity and concord
with itself and hence will not suffer dissolution from any internal
disharmony of its parts. The bond is simply geometrical proportion.
It is not a question of mechanical forces holding the world together.
These belong to the second part of the dialogue and will be explained
in due course at 58A.

32C-33B. The world's body contains the whole of all the four primary
bodies

The next paragraph explicitly rejects the old Ionian conception
of an indefinite circumambient mass of body, surrounding the
cosmos and providing a reservoir of materials from which a series
of successive worlds could be formed ; and also the Atomists'
conception of an unlimited quantity of matter scattered throughout
an infinite void. In this respect the body of the world is once
more all-inclusive, like its model. It must be (1) a whole and
complete, consisting of parts each of which is whole and complete ;
(2) single or unique (not one of many coexistent worlds) ; (3) ever-
lasting (not destroyed and superseded by another world), which
it could hardly be, if it were exposed to assaults from outside.

32c. Now the frame of the world took up the whole of each of
these four ; he who put it together made it consist of all
the fire and water and air and earth, leaving no part or
power of any one of them outside. This was his intent :

D. first, that it might be in the fullest measure a living being
33. whole and complete, of complete parts ; next, that it might
be single, nothing being left over, out of which such another
might come into being ; and moreover that it might be free
from age and sickness. For he perceived that, if a body be
composite, when hot things and cold and all things that have
strong powers beset that body and attack it from without,
they bring it to untimely dissolution and cause it to waste
away by bringing upon it sickness and age. For this reason
and so considering, he fashioned it as a single whole con-

B. sisting of all these wholes, complete and free from age and
sickness.

We are here given one of the reasons why the Demiurge thought
it better that the visible world should resemble its model in respect
of uniqueness (31B).1 * * The primary bodies are described as 4 hot

1 Pr. i, 55 84 : * The proportion does away with internal lack of symmetry,

the uniqueness with external violence.'

THE WORLD’S BODY

and cold things and whatever has strong powers ‘ Powers *
(dvvdfjieiQ) means the qualities or properties of bodies considered
as having the ' power to act and be acted upon ’ (dvvajbug rov
noielv xai 7tao%£iv). Hotness is the property of fire that is manifest
when fire makes something else hot or causes in sentient beings a
sensation of heat. Coldness is the answering property of the thing
which suffers the affection. The ‘ powers ’ of the primary bodies
are these qualitative properties, as distinct from the quantitative
element of form, the regular geometrical shapes later imposed upon
these qualities by the Demiurge (53B). Outside the cosmos, fire
and the rest, if they could exist at all, could only exist as unformed
' powers as in the chaos described at 52D. They would then act
upon the contents of the formed world and impair its health and
stability.

The argument is Eleatic, or at least reminiscent of Melissus’
proof (frag. 7) that the unchangeable Being cannot suffer pain :
' for if it did, it could not be completely real, since nothing that
suffers pain could be for ever or have the same power as the healthy.
Nor could it be alike, if it suffered pain ; since it would suffer pain
when something was taken from it or added to it, and then it
would no longer be alike.’ Proclus (ii, 63) compares the description
of the enfeeblement and wasting away of mortal living creatures
when the particles of the body, instead of assimilating food from
without, are broken down under its too powerful action (81c, d).
Plato may also have in view the belief ascribed to Democritus that
some of the innumerable worlds of his system are growing, others
reaching their prime, others again in decay, and even that they
destroy one another by collision.1 Plato’s world is saved from
such calamities by its uniqueness. Aristotle appears to have
repeated Plato’s argument in his dialogue On Philosophy : 2 The
cosmos must be ungenerated and indestructible, since the causes
of destruction must be some power (<5 vva/ug) either external or
contained within it. There is nothing outside, since the cosmos
contains everything. It is one, because if anything were left over,
another like it might come into being ; whole, because all being is
used up in forming it ; free from age and sickness, because bodies
subject to sickness and age are upset by the strong assaults from
outside of heat and cold and the other opposites, but no such power
(dvva/ug) is left outside the world. Nor can anything inside it
cause its dissolution, since then the part would be stronger than
the whole.

1 Hippol. Ref. 1, 13 (Vors. A 40). Cf. Bailey, Greek Atomists , p. 146.

2 Frag. 19 (Ps.-Philo, de aetern. mundi ). Cf. Occelus Lucanus i.

THE WORLD’S BODY

33b — 34a

33B-34A. It is a sphere , without organs or limbs , rotating on its axis

In the second part of the dialogue we shall be told how Necessity
co-operates with Reason by the working of mechanical causes which
keep the world’s body in spherical shape (58A). Here we are con-
cerned only with the rational desire of the Demiurge to give it the
most perfect of forms and motions. The sphere is the most uniform
of all solid figures, and the only one which, by rotating on its axis,
can move within its own limits without change of place. This axial
rotation symbolises the movement of Reason and is superior to all
rectilinear motions.

33B. And for shape he gave it that which is fitting and akin to
its nature. For the living creature that was to embrace all
living creatures within itself, the fitting shape would be the
figure that comprehends in itself all the figures there are ;
accordingly, he turned its shape rounded and spherical,
equidistant every way from centre to extremity — a figure
the most perfect and uniform of all ; for he judged unifor-
mity to be immeasurably better than its opposite.

Diels has quoted this description as the best commentary on
Parmenides’ comparison of his One Being, ‘ complete on every
side ’, to ‘ the mass of a well-rounded sphere, equally poised from
the centre in every direction \1 Proclus (ii, 71) suggests two ex-
planations of the statement that the sphere embraces all other
figures. Geometers have demonstrated that the sphere has a greater
volume than any solid figure with plane sides, having the same
perimeter. Also, the sphere is the only figure in which every
equilateral polygon can be inscribed ; so the reference might be
to the five regular solids mentioned later where the primary bodies
are constructed. It is curious that Euclid xi, def. 14, defines the
sphere, not in the usual terms, here quoted by Plato, as having its
extremity everywhere equidistant from the centre, but by the
mode of generating it : 4 When, the diameter of a semicircle re-'
maining fixed, the semicircle is carried round and restored again
to the same position from which it began to be moved, the figure
so comprehended is a sphere.’ As Heath 2 points out, the last
propositions of Book xiii show why Euclid put the definition in
this form : ‘ it is this particular view of a sphere which he uses to
prove that the vertices of the regular solids which he wishes to
“ comprehend ” in certain spheres do lie on the surfaces of those
spheres

1 Parm., frag. 8, 42 (cited by Pr. ii, 69, on our passage).

* Euclid iii, 269.

0 r

THE WORLD’S BODY

33B. And all round on the outside he made it perfectly smooth,
c. for several reasons. It had no need of eyes, for nothing
visible was left outside ; nor of hearing, for there was nothing
outside to be heard. There was no surrounding air to
require breathing, nor yet was it in need of any organ by
which to receive food into itself or to discharge it again wheti
drained of its juices. For nothing went out or came into it
from anywhere, since there was nothing : it was designed
D. to feed itself on its own waste and to act and be acted upon
entirely by itself and within itself ; because its framer thought
that it would be better self-sufficient, rather than dependent
upon anything else.

It had no need of hands to grasp with or to defend itself,
nor yet of feet or anything that would serve to stand upon ;
so he saw no need to attach to it these limbs to no purpose.

34. For he assigned to it the motion proper to its bodily form,
namely that one of the seven which above all belongs to
reason and intelligence ; accordingly, he caused it to turn
about uniformly in the same place and within its own limits
and made it revolve round and round ; he took from it all
the other six motions and gave it no part in their wanderings.
And since for this revolution it needed no feet, he made it
without feet or legs.

Once more the argument is Eleatic, rather than Pythagorean.
Xenophanes had declared that his limited and spherical world had
no special organs of sense : * it sees, thinks, and hears as a whole '
(frag. 24). The statement may possibly be directed against a
primitive doctrine which figures in some Orphic verses 1 frequently
quoted by the Neoplatonists : Zeus is first and last, one royal body,
containing fire water earth and air, night and day, Metis and Eros.
The sky is his head, the stars his hair, the sun and moon his eyes,
the air his intelligence (vovg), whereby he hears and marks all
things ; no sound nor voice escapes his ears, and so on. The
Pythagoreans certainly regarded the Heaven as a living creature
which breathed the circumambient air. Xenophanes 2 again had
denied this, like Plato here. Parmenides had said that the one
Being was not bom and did not grow and Empedocles had echoed

1 Kern, Orpk. frag. 168. (Proclus ii, 82, quotes the fragment here, but as
evidence that the living world has sensation.) Epiphanius (adv. haer. i, 7)
attributes the doctrine to Pythagoras : ‘ he speaks of the god, i.e. the Heaven,
as a body and of the sun and moon and the other stars as his eyes and so
forth, as in a human being \

* D.L. ix, 19 (Vors. 11, Ar) ^ fiivroi ava7n>€iv.

THE WORLD’S BODY

33b-34a

him.1 All these statements must be taken as repudiating the
primitive notion, traceable in the earliest Pythagorean cosmology,
that the world starts from a seed and grows like a living thing by
taking in, as nourishment, more and more of the body that environs
it.2

A creature which requires no nourishment has no need t6 seek
it by moving from place to place. So the sphere has no limbs, as
Empedocles said : * No two branches (arms or wings ?) spring from
his back, no feet, no swift-moving knees, no parts of generation ;
but he was a Sphere every way equal to itself * {frag. 29). ‘ He

always remains in the same place, altogether unmoved, nor does it
beseem him to go from place to place ’ (Xenophanes, 26). 3 There
remains, as the only possible movement, the rotation proper to a
sphere. That this is the only ' rational ’ movement is here stated
without any explanation. The point is argued for the first time
in the Laws (897D ff.), where the Athenian asks : Of what nature
is the motion of reason ? He replies that rotation in one place is
most akin to the revolution of reason : both motions are ' regular
and uniform, in the same place, round the same things and in
relation to the same things, according to one rule and system \4
Motion that has not these characteristics, but involves change of
place without order, system, or rule, is akin to all unreason {avoia).
So here the six rectilinear motions (up and down, forwards and
backwards, to right and left) are associated with the irrational.
They are ‘ Wanderings ’ in which the body of the universe, as a
whole, has no share {ajihavec;), though its constituents, the primary
bodies, will be found to possess them.

It is clearly meant that this rational movement of rotation is
not confined to the fixed stars ; it is a motion of the whole universe
carrying with it all its contents, as the Laws explicitly declares.5
Nothing has yet been said of the stars, the planets, and the Earth.
We shall find that the planets are involved in this motion, though
they have also independent motions of their own. The rotation

1 Parm. 8, 6, rlva yap yiwav Sidereal avrov [ 7rfj vodev av£rj0ev ; Emped. 17, 32,
rovro h* €7rav£yo€t.e to nav rl kc koX n 60ev e\0ov ;

2 Cf. Aet. ii, 5, 1, * Aristotle : If the world is nourished, it will perish ;
but in fact it needs no nourishment ; hence it is everlasting \

8 Parmenides also (frag. 8, 26-33) seems to connect the immovableness of
his Being with its perfection and its ‘ having no needs ’ ( ovk emSeves), a
divine characteristic (Xenophanes, Vors. 11, A 32, cmSelcrOai nrjbevds avrutv
(twv 0ea>v) firjbeva. Xen. Mem. I, 6, 10 to firjSevds helaBai Belov etvcu. Eur.
H.F . 1341. Cf. Ar. de caelo 1, 279 a, 34.)

4 Cf. below, 40 a.

5 897c, ‘ If we are to assert that the whole course and motion of the Heaven
and of all that it contains are of like nature to the motion and revolution and
reflections of reason . . .’

THE WORLD-SOUL

of the whole must also affect the Earth, a point that will come up
again when we have to consider whether the Earth has any proper
movement (p. 130). Here the rotation of the world with all its
contents, from axis to circumference, symbolises that reason
penetrates and governs the entire universe. On the other hand,
the six irrational motions do occur in nature. Since all physical
motions are ultimately caused by the self-moving soul, this passage
supports the view that the World-Soul has an element of unreason
and, like our own souls, is not perfectly controlled by the divine
reason it contains. Plato will deny that the so-called * planets *
really * wander ' from one course to another ; but the primary
bodies have rectilinear motions which are constantly changing their
direction. These will be associated with ‘ what happens of Neces-
sity * and the ' wandering cause ' in the second part of the dialogue.

On the whole, this curiously archaic account of the world's body
owes much more to the Eleatics and to Empedocles than to the
early Pythagoreans. Where Xenophanes and Parmenides differed
from the Pythagoreans Plato takes their side, except in Parmenides'
denial of all motion. In particular, he rejects the primitive Pytha-
gorean cosmogony, in which the living world expanded from a
fiery seed by taking in the surrounding darkness, and, when formed,
continued to breathe the vacant air from without. The sphere
has always existed in its perfection and self-sufficiency, and outside
it there is neither body nor void.1 It everlastingly fills the whole
of space.

THE WORLD-SOUL

The next section, on the World-Soul, opens with a short summary
enumerating the perfections which the world’s body owes to divine
forethought, and adding that its circular motion, already mentioned,
is due to its soul, extending from centre to circumference. The
soul is coeval with the body ; both exist everlastingly. The com-
position of the soul is next described : it consists of certain inter-
mediate kinds of Existence, Sameness, and Difference. When these
constituents have been compounded, the mixture is divided in the
proportions of a musical harmonia. Out of the stuff so compounded
and divided the Demiurge then constructs a system of circles,
representing the principal motions of the stars and planets. The

1 Pr. repeatedly asserts that there is no void outside the cosmos for Plato
any more than for Aristotle (ii, 73, 89, 91, etc.). In order to maintain his
thesis, Tr. has to suppose that Plato is attributing to Timaeus a ‘ development
within Pythagoreanism which repudiates prominent features of the original
doctrine ' (p. 100).

34a-c

THE WORLD-SOUL

addition of these motions of soul to the bodily frame previously
described starts the world upon its unceasing course of intelligent
life. Finally, it is explained that, on the principle that like knows
like, the composition of the World-Soul out of three elements,
Existence, Sameness, and Difference, enables it both to know
unchangeably real objects and to have true beliefs about changing
things of the lower order of existence.

34A-B. Summary. Transition to the World-Soul

34A. All this, then, was the plan of the god who is for ever for the
B. god who was sometime to be. According to this plan he
made it smooth and uniform, everywhere equidistant from
its centre, a body whole and complete, with complete bodies
for its parts. And in the centre he set a soul and caused it
to extend throughout the whole and further wrapped its
body round with soul on the outside ; and so he established
one world alone, round and revolving in a circle, solitary
but able by reason of its excellence to bear itself company,
needing no other acquaintance or friend but sufficient to
itself. On all these accounts the world which he brought
into being was a blessed god.

The statement (here and at 36E) that the soul is wrapped round
the body of the world ‘ on the outside ' does not mean that the
soul extends beyond the body, but only that it reaches the extreme
circumference. Similarly, the yellow colour of an orange might be
said to cover it all over on the outside. At Sophist 253D the specific
Forms are 4 embraced on the outside ' (egcodev TceQcexojuhag) by the
generic Form, but the genus does not extend farther than the
species it contains. Aristotle again speaks of 4 the parts of animals
on the outside ' (ra ££codev [xoQia r oov Cq>a>r, H.A. 494 a, 22), and
Plotinus of ' the circumference on the outside ' of a circle (rj egatdev
TteQipdQSLa, Enn. ii, 2, 1). There may, however, be a suggestion
that the presence of a rational soul is most clearly revealed at the
circumference, where the diurnal revolution of the whole world is
visibly manifested by the stars, unmodified by other motions.1
This is the movement of the Same, which has the ‘ supremacy '
over all the interior motions, as Albinus observes in explaining this
phrase.2

34 b-c. Soul is prior to body

34B. Now this soul, though it comes later in the account we are
c. now attempting, was not made by the god younger than the
body ; for when he joined them together, he would not have
1 Cf. Tr., p. 105. * Didasc ch. xiv. Cf. 36c.

COMPOSITION OF WORLD-SOUL

suffered the elder to be ruled by the younger. There is in
us too much of the casual and random,1 which shows itself
in our speech ; but the god made soul prior to body and
more venerable in birth and excellence, to be the body's
mistress and governor.

The words ‘ elder ' and ‘ prior ' here obviously do not mean that
the world's soul existed before its body. Plato's point is made at
length in Laws X, where it is argued that all motion must have
its source in a self-moving thing, which is precisely the definition
of soul (896A). Accordingly, the characteristic motions of soul —
wish, reflection, forethought, etc. — must be the motions whose
operation is primary (71 Qcorovgyol xivrjosu 897A) and which ‘ take
over ' the secondary motions of bodies and control them. Soul
itself may be associated with reason and guide all things aright,
or with unreason. Plato is combating the atheistical view that the
world order has arisen by chance and necessity from the blind
working of lifeless powers in the bodily elements. That the world
should have a body without a soul is as impossible as that it should
have a soul without a body.

35A. Composition of the World-Soul

We now come to the composition and structure of the World-Soul.
The next sentence states that it is compounded of three ingredients,
which are described. The sentence (which, for convenience, I have
divided into three numbered parts) is one of the most obscure in
the whole dialogue, but not so obscure as it has been made by
critics, who have altered the text and thereby dislocated the
grammar and the sense. Proclus construed it in the only possible
way, and his interpretation, once disengaged from the irrelevant
intricacies of his own theology, is obviously correct.2

35 a. The things of which he composed soul and the manner of
its composition were as follows : (1) Between the indivisible
Existence that is ever in the same state and the divisible
Existence that becomes in bodies, he compounded a third
form of Existence composed of both. (2) Again, in the case
of Sameness and in that of Difference, he also on the same

1 Because we are not wholly rational, but partly subject to those wandering
causes which, 4 being devoid of intelligence, produce their effects casually and
without order ’ (46E) .

2 This was pointed out by Professor G. M. A. Grube of Toronto in Class .
Philol. xxvii (1932), p. 80. Other interpretations, ancient and modem, are
reviewed by Tr. (pp. jio6 ff.) ; but he has (very excusably) overlooked the
valuable part of Proclus’ discussion.

COMPOSITION OF WORLD-SOUL

35a

principle made a compound intermediate between that kind
of them which is indivisible and the kind that is divisible in
bodies. (3) Then, taking the three, he blended them all
into a unity, forcing the nature of Difference, hard as it was
to mingle, into union with Sameness, and mixing them
together with Existence. 1

The sentence falls into three clauses : (1) The first describes the
compounding, out of indivisible, unchanging Existence and the
divisible Existence which becomes in the region of the bodily, of a
third kind of Existence intermediate between them. This inter-
mediate sort of Existence is one of the three ingredients in the final
mixture of the last clause. (2) The second clause states that the
Demiurge proceeded on the same principle (xara ravra) also in the
case of Sameness and in that of Difference. As there were two
kinds of Existence, the indivisible and the divisible, so Sameness
and Difference have each two corresponding kinds, described as
‘ that kind of them which is indivisible, and the kind that is divisible
in bodies ’ (to djuegeg avrc ov xal to xara ra acojuara fieqtarov ).
Accordingly, as before, the Demiurge made a third intermediate
kind of Sameness (and again of Difference), composed of the indi-
visible and divisible kinds of Sameness (and of Difference). These
intermediate kinds of Sameness and of Difference are the second
and third ingredients in the final mixture.2 (3) Finally, taking the

1 The text is as follows : (1) rfjs dpeplarov Kal del Kara ravra exovarjs ovalas
Kal rfjs av nepl ra owpuira yiyvopevys pepLarfjs rplrov e£ dp,<j>oiv ev peatp ovveKepaaaro
ovalas etSos * (2) rfjs re ravrov <f>vae tvs av 7 rept. Kal rijs rov erepov Kal Kara ravra

awiarrjaev ev peatp rov re dpepovs avrcov Kal rov Kara ra atvpara pepiarov • (3) Kal

rpla Xafldjv a vra ovra ovveKepaaaro els plav 7 ravra ISeav, rrjv darepov <f>voiv Svapeucrov
ovaav els ravrov awappdrrwv ftiq., petyvvs 8e pera rrjs ovalas . Against all the
MSS., editors have omitted atf 7 rept after rrjs re ravrov (frvoecos- But cf. rrjs Si
* EppoKparovs afi nepl <f>voea>s (20A 7) ; to 8* avnepl rfjs <j>povyoeu)s (24B, 7). At
the end, Jackson saw that petyvvs 8e per a rrjs ovalas goes with the other present
participle ovvappdrrcvv, not with the following aorist noirjaapevos , and punctu-
ated as above.

* Commenting on clause (2) Proclus (ii, 155) says that among the kinds.
Existence ranks first. Sameness second, Difference third. As the intermediate
sort of Existence is subordinate to intelligible Existence but superior to
divisible Existence in the corporeal, so the Sameness of the soul is inferior to
indivisible Sameness, but has a superior unity to divisible Sameness ; and
this is true also of its Difference. He recognises what (in the terms of his
own theology) he calls the ' demiurgic genus * of Sameness (and of Difference) ,
as having three species — the indivisible, the divisible, and the intermediate.
He assigns to soul the intermediate species of both Sameness and Difference,
and says they are combined (in the final mixture) with the intermediate
species of Existence. * For Plato says that, just as in the case of Existence,
so in the case of Sameness and Difference the Demiurge compounded a third
sort consisting of both, and “ on the same principle " (reading Kara ravra here

COMPOSITION OF WORLD-SOUL

three ingredients, the Demiurge mixes them all into a unity. We
may set out the full scheme of the Soul's composition as follows :

First

Mixture

Indivisible Existence
Divisible Existence
Indivisible Sameness
Divisible Sameness
Indivisible Difference
Divisible Difference

Fined

Mixture

Intermediate Existence

Intermediate Sameness

Intermediate Difference

>Soul

So much for the interpretation of the words ; it remains to
consider what Plato’s symbolism means. This passage is one of
many in which he is writing for readers already versed in his own
later thought, without regard for the uninstructed, who would be
left wholly in the dark. The terms Existence, Sameness, Difference,
would be simply unintelligible to anyone who had not read and
understood the Sophist.1 In that dialogue 2 these three ‘ kinds ’
or Forms are singled out for the purpose of showing how Forms
in general can be connected in true affirmative statements and
disjoined in true negative statements. It was necessary to point
out that the words ‘ is ’ and * is not ’ are ambiguous : * is* can
mean either * exists * or ‘ is the same as* ; * is not * can mean either
‘ does not exist * or ‘ is different from \ Non-existence has been
ruled out of the discussion, because there are no true statements
asserting that any Form does not exist. We are thus left with
Existence, Sameness, Difference. It is carefully shown that these
three Forms are wholly distinct. They are, indeed, ‘ all-pervading ’,
in that every one of them ‘ combines ’ with every other and with
every Form there is. You can say truly of any Form whatsoever
(i) that it exists , (2) that it is the same as itself, and (3) that it is

and at 1551 and 15623 : so Tr.) : as in the former case the “ compound of
both ” was a species of Existence, so in the case of these the intermediate is
a species of Sameness or Difference.' This paraphrase clearly shows that he
construed clause (2) in the only way consistent with the reading of the MSS.
The confusions introduced by other commentators arise chiefly from omitting
the words av iripi, and then imagining that tov re afiepovs avrcov k al rod Kara ra
acofiara ficpioTov means the indivisible and divisible kinds (not ‘ of them '
(avr u>v), i.e. Sameness and Difference, but) of Existence. This reduces the
Sfyr ^ase to a pointless repetition of the first, and leads to an identification
^leness and Difference with Indivisible and Divisible Existence, which
-o flatly inconsistent with the Sophist.

1 Tr.’s exposition of our passage is complicated by his not allowing Timaeus
to know the contents of the Sophist (p. 128), though he does not hesitate to
translate Timaeus' doctrine into the terminology of Whitehead (p. 131).

8 For a fuller discussion see F. M. Comford, Plato's Theory of Knowledge
(x935)> PP- 273 ff.

P.C.

COMPOSITION OF WORLD-SOUL 35a

different from any other Form. But a main point of the argument
is that no one of these three Forms can be identified with, or
derived from, any other.1 In this part of the Sophist ‘ Existence '
(to dv) means, not ‘ that which exists \ but simply what is meant
by the word * exists ' in such a statement as ' Motion exists (partakes
of Existence) \ Since the Sophist (as the ancient critics saw)
provides the sole clue to the sense of our passage, the word ovaia
here must bear this meaning ; it should not be rendered by
‘ essence * or ‘ substance \ The upshot is that the soul has a sort
of existence which is not simply identical with the real ‘ being '
of immutable and eternal things, nor yet with the ‘ becoming * of
the things of sense, but has some of the characteristics of both
these sorts of Existence.

In the Sophist only Forms are in question, and the sort of Exist-
ence which Forms possess. This is evidently what Plato, in our
passage, calls * indivisible and always unchanging Existence \
When we say that a Form exists, we mean that it has the eternal
and immutable being assigned to the higher order of existents at
the opening of Timaeus' discourse (28A). With this Plato contrasts
here, as before, the ‘ divisible Existence which becomes in bodies '
or in the region of the bodily. This belongs to that lower order of
existents which is ' always becoming, but never has real being ', in
the realm of the perceptible. The Sophist (240B) recognises images
(eidola) as a class of entities which have f some sort of existence '
(as dvr a noog), but not the real being of the real things (dvr cog dvr a) of
which they are likenesses. These images of reality include all the
contents of the visible world produced by the divine Demiurge,
whose activity is compared in a later passage of the Sophist 2 to
that of the human craftsman. They are those copies of the Forms
which Timaeus (52 a) describes as like the Forms whose names they
bear, sensible, generated, perpetually in motion, coming to be in a
certain place and vanishing out of it, apprehended by belief involving
perception. As likenesses (eixoveg) they are contrasted with real
things (to dvr cog ov) and said to exist only as shifting appearances

1 As Plutarch observes : axnov nXaTOJvos eV ra> 2Jo<f>iarfj to ov /cat TO ravrov /cat

TO crepov , TTpOS 8& TOUTOt? 07 dO IV KCLl KlVTjOLV, CO? €KdOTOV €KdOTOV 8ld <f>4pOV Kdl 7T€VT€

ovra xojpls-dXXyXo>vTi0€fX€vov teal 8iopi£ovros, de anim.procr. 1013D. Soph. 254D ff.
It should be noted that in the whole account of the composition of the World-
Soul, nothing is said about Motion and Rest. These two Forms are illegiti-
mately imported into the interpretation of our passage by Proclus and other
ancient and modern commentators, misled by the baseless notion that Motion
and Rest together with Existence, Sameness, Difference are the five Platonic
‘ categories \ For this misinterpretation of the Sophist, see F. M. Comford,
Plato’s Theory of Knowledge (1935), pp. 274 ff.

2 266a ff. See F. M. Cornford, Plato’s Theory of Knowledge, p. 328 note.

COMPOSITION OF WORLD-SOUL

in some medium (space), * clinging to existence somehow or other,
on pain of being nothing at all 1 (52 c).

Between these two orders he now inserts a third form of Existence,
compounded of both, which is proper to the soul. All this is
correctly pointed out by Proclus. Throughout his commentary,
he speaks of soul as an intermediate entity, composed of the inter-
mediate kinds of Existence, Sameness, and Difference.1 He
recognises three orders of Existence : ' intelligible and ungenerated
things ; perceptible and generated things ; and intermediate things
that are intelligible and generated. The first are altogether incom-
posite and indivisible and hence ungenerated ; the second composite
and divisible and hence generated ; the intermediate kind are
intelligible and generated, being by nature both indivisible and
divisible, both simple and composite, though in different ways \2
' That by indivisible Existence Plato means the intelligible Existence
which, in its entirety, partakes of eternity, and by divisible Existence
in bodies the Existence which is inseparable from corporeal bulk
and has its being in the whole of time, he himself makes plain by
speaking of the former as “ unchanging ", of the latter as “ becom-
ing ", in order to call the soul not only at once indivisible and
divisible, but also “ intelligible " and " the first among things that
become ".3 There is a difference between the everlastingness
which is eternal and the everlastingness which is spread out along
the infinity of time ; and there is yet another, composed of both,
such as belongs to the soul. For in its being the soul is unchange-
able and eternal, but in respect of its thoughts it is in change and
in time/ 4

If this statement is substantially right, the World-Soul and all
individual souls belong to both worlds and partake both of being
and of becoming. As immortal and imperishable, the soul is
‘ most like the divine, immortal, intelligible, simple, and indis-
soluble (because incomposite) ; whereas the body is most like the
mortal, multiform, unintelligible, dissoluble (because composite)
and perpetually changing * (Phaedo 78B). To that extent the soul
is akin to the unchanging Forms in the eternal world. But the

1 e.g. ii, 137, cVcc ovv ^ tfjv^LKrj ovaia peerr] S^Sciktcu ran* ovtcov, 4k twv fidotjv

<oro)s earl ycvcov rod ovros, ovoias, ravrov, darepov ; iii, 254 s, ifjvyr} ionv ovaia

rijs ovtojs ovotjs ovoias xal ycveoecjs, ck tu)v jx4aojv ovyKpadelaa yevujv and
in many other places.

2 Pr. ii, 11714.

* The reference is to 36E, 6, where soul is called ‘ invisible ’ and ' the best
of generated things \ On that passage Pr. remarks that soul belongs at once
to both classes — things that eternally are and things that become, being
the lowest in rank of the former class, since time has its place in soul (ii, 293 18).

4 Pr. ii, 14728.

COMPOSITION OF WORLD-SOUL 35a

soul is unlike the Forms in that it is alive and intelligent, and life
and intelligence cannot exist without change [Soph. 248E). All
souls, therefore, must partake also of the lower order of existence
in the realm of change and time.

The epithets ‘ indivisible ’ and * divisible ' call for some ex-
planation.1 The being of a Form is indivisible. A Form may,
indeed, be complex and hence definable ; but it is not ' composite '
(avvQerov), not ‘ put together * out of parts that can be actually
separated or dissolved. Also every Form is unique ; it cannot be
multiplied. It is not extended in space, and never leaves its own
intelligible region to pass into the multitude of things that become
in the world of change (52A-C). There is a sense in which every
soul is unique and everlastingly preserves its identity ; the soul,
too, or at least the immortal part of soul, is ' incomposite ' and
indissoluble. But souls do enter the world of time and change.
They exist separately in different bodies, which exclude one another
in space ; and a soul may be conceived as permeating every part
of the body it animates. To this extent it shares in the divided
or dispersed (< axedacrcrj , 37A) Existence of body ; though it cannot
be cut into pieces as the body can. The World-Soul is described
as extended throughout the whole body from centre to circum-
ference (34B, 36E). It is not clear that we have any right to explain
this away. If we recognise such a thing as a soul, an animating
principle of motion and consciousness somehow distinct from the
bodily elements that continue to exist in a corpse, it is natural to
think of it as extending to every part of the living creature. Such,
then, is the intermediate form of Existence which, in the imagery
of the myth, is produced by mixing the two original kinds of
Existence, so as to form a third between them.2

It is less easy to see what is meant by the remaining ingredients,
the intermediate kinds of Sameness and Difference. The question
is best approached from the side of the cognitive functions of the
soul, and the principle that like knows like.3 Aristotle remarks

1 Their meaning as applied to the soul is discussed by Plotinus from his
own standpoint at Enn. iv, ii.

2 There is a further question, too speculative to be here pursued, whether
the intermediate existence of the soul is to be connected with the intermediate
position of the objects of mathematics between the Intelligible and the
Sensible in Plato’s later * Ableitungssystem * as reconstructed by Robin and
H. Gomperz. See Robin, Place de la Physique dans la Philos, de Platon
(1919), PP- 51 and P. Merlan in Philologus lxxxix, 197 ff.

* Cf. Crantor's explanation preserved by Plutarch de anim. procr. 1012F
(summarised in Tr., p. 1 1 3) . Plutarch’s brief summary does not make it
clear whether Crantor was really open to the objections Plutarch advances
(1013B ff.) ; but Crantor appears to have misconstrued Plato’s sentence like
almost everyone else, except Proclus. Albinus in his Didascalicus starts his

COMPOSITION OF WORLD-SOUL

that Plato in the Timaeus is among those who hold this principle
and consequently teach that the soul is composed of the same ulti-
mate elements as the things it knows. The doctrine is, in fact, stated
below (37A), where Plato explains that the composition of the soul
out of the three ingredients, Existence, Sameness, Difference,
enables it both to know the objects of reason and to perceive the
objects of sense, and to make judgments, involving the terms
' same ' and ' different \ about exist ents of both orders. As
Proclus says, * the soul, having an intermediate existence, also fills
the gap between reason and irrationality. With the highest part
of herself she consorts with reason ; with the lowest she declines
towards sensation ' (i, 251).

In the Sophist ‘ Sameness ' stands for the constant identity of a
Form (Forms alone being there in question), or its positive content,
in virtue of which it is always ' the same as itself \ A Form
always is what it is ; its sameness excludes any sort of change.
This content, at the same time, makes it different from any other
Form ; for no two Forms are identical in content. A Form is
defined by genus and ' differences \ These differences are both
elements of positive content — part of what the Form is in itself —
and what distinguish it from other Forms, constituting its ' other-
ness \ Any Form can be negatively described as what is not (is
different from) any other Form.

What is meant by describing the Sameness which belongs to
unchanging Forms as ‘ indivisible ', we can only conjecture.
Perhaps the meaning is that every Form is not only conceptually
identical with itself, but numerically one and the same (unique).
The Sameness that is ' divided * in the region of bodies must be
the sort of Sameness that belongs to individual objects of sense.
Such an object has, so long as it exists, some more or less constant
identity which enables us to recognise it as ' the same thing *
persisting, though in many respects it changes perpetually. But,

account of the soul (based on our passage) from the principle * Like knows
like * : * Since soul enables us to judge each kind of existents, the god naturally
arranged the first principles of all things within the soul, in order that, since
we always see each thing according to its affinity and likeness, we may posit
the soul's reality in harmony with things. Plato, therefore, while declaring
that there is an intelligible Existence which is indivisible, also posited another
Existence which is divisible in the region of bodies, indicating that the soul
can apprehend either by its thought. Perceiving, further, Sameness and
Difference both in the realm of the intelligible and in that of the divisible,
he made all these contribute to the composition of the soul. For either like
is known by like, as the Pythagoreans hold, or, as Heraclitus thought, unlike
by unlike ' (ch. xiv). Albinus apparently did not confuse Sameness and
Difference with indivisible and divisible Existence. Tim. Locr. 95E also
avoided this confusion.

HARMONY OF THE WORLD-SOUL 35b-36b

unlike Forms, any number of individual things may be concep-
tually identical, but numerically different. There are many men
or horses, all partaking of the same Form, Man or Horse. The
Sameness (conceptual identity) is dispersed or divided among all
the perceptible individuals. Both the indivisible and the divisible
kind must be represented in the composition of the soul, in order
that it may recognise both in their respective orders of Existence.
The two kinds of Difference could be explained on the same lines.

35B-36B. Division of the World-Soul into harmonic intervals

In the figurative language of the myth the compound of three
ingredients is spoken of as if it were a piece of malleable stuff —
say, an amalgam of three soft metals — forming a long strip, which
will presently be slit along its whole length and bent round into
circles. But first the strip is marked off into divisions, correspond-
ing to the intervals of a musical scale ( harmonia ). The intention
is the same as in the previous paragraph. The soul must partake
of harmony as well as of reason (36E). Like knows like; and
just as the soul can recognise existence, sameness, and difference
because these are elements in its own composition, so the World-
Soul must contain the harmonious order which individual souls
ought to learn and reproduce in themselves.

The Demiurge begins by dividing the entire length into ' portions '
measured by the numbers forming two geometrical proportions of
four terms each : 1, 2, 4, 8 and 1, 3, 9, 27.

35B. And having made a unity of the three, again he divided this
whole into as many parts as was fitting, each part being a
blend of Sameness, Difference, and Existence.

And he began the division in this way. First he took one
portion (1) from the whole, and next a portion (2) double
of this ; the third (3) half as much again as the second, and
three times the first ; the fourth (4) double of the second ;

c. the fifth (9) three times the third ; the sixth (8) eight times
the first ; 1 and the seventh (27) twenty-seven times the
first.

The numbers are evidently meant to be arranged in a single
series of seven terms starting from 1, because the unit had been
held by the Pythagoreans to contain within itself both the
‘ elements ' of number, the even (or ' unlimited ') and the odd
(‘ limited * or ' limit '). * The one consists of both these (since it

1 9 precedes 8, * because 9 is a lower power, being the square of 3, while 8
is the cube of 2 ' (A.-H., ad loc.).

HARMONY OF THE WORLD-SOUL

is both even and odd), and number proceeds from the one, and
numbers are the whole Heaven/ 1 Accordingly, the two progres-
sions advance, through the first even and the first odd number,
to their squares and cubes. Theon reproduces Crantor’s diagram,
symbolising the procession from the one :

but in Plato’s description the numbers are spoken of as measuring
corresponding lengths of a single long strip of soul-stuff. We must
imagine them as placed in one row at intervals answering to these
lengths, in the order i, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, 27. The intervals are, of
course, of very various lengths. They are presently to be filled in
with additional numbers, until we finally obtain a series representing
musical notes at intervals of a tone or a semitone. These notes
can, for purposes of illustration, be taken as corresponding to the
consecutive white notes on a piano covering a range of four octaves
and a major sixth'. This compass is determined solely by the
decision to terminate the series with 27, the cube of 3. 2

Modern commentators seem not to have taken sufficient notice
of the fact that this decision has nothing whatever to do with the
theory of musical harmony. Theon 3 remarks that Plato extends his
diatonic system as far as to the fourth octave plus a fifth plus a tone,
and quotes Adrastus as follows : ‘ If any one objects that it should
not be extended so far, since Aristoxenus limits the extent of his
diagram representing the different modes to two octaves and a fourth,
while the moderns have their fifteen-mode diagram with maximum
compass of three octaves and a tone,4 the answer is that these latter

1 Ar., Met. 986 a, 17 (on the Pythagoreans). Cf. Theon (p. 155), discussing
Plato’s series, which he reckons as the second form of tetractys, formed by
multiplication : * One is taken as the first number because it is the principle
of all numbers, even and odd and even-odd.'

2 So Pr. ii, 1 70 18 : * The advance to four octaves and a fifth (sic) is a
necessary consequence of the 7 terms, the highest of which is 27.'

3 p. 104. The same passage from Adrastus is quoted by Pr. ii, 170, with
a few variants.

4 The readings here vary. Mr. R. P. Winnington Ingram writes to me
that he thinks the correct reading is : oi veatrepoi to 7revr€#cat8€#caTpo7rov
\iiy Lotov €7ti to T/oiff hia ttcmjcqv koX tovov , this being the total range of the nota-
tions (with the additions elsewhere ascribed to ol vewTcpoi) and therefore the
most extended gamut known to Greek theory.

HARMONY OF THE WORLD-SOUL 35b-36b

take only the practical point of view : they consider that performers
cannot sing, nor could the hearers properly distinguish, notes beyond
this compass. Plato, on the other hand, is looking to the nature
of things. The soul must be composed according to a harmonia
and advance as far as solid numbers and be harmonised by two
means, in order that , extending throughout the whole solid body of the
world , it may grasp all the things that exist. For this reason Plato
has extended its harmonia to that point, though in a sense and in
respect of its own nature , the harmonia might extend indefinitely .' 1
Adrastus evidently saw that, from the musical standpoint, the
extent of Plato's range of notes was really as accidental as the
compass of the human voice or ear, which fixes a limit to the size
of musical instruments. The reason for stopping at the cube is
that the cube symbolises body in three dimensions.2 We have
already remarked that the two progressions i, 2, 4, 8 and 1, 3, 9, 27
stand at the head of Adrastus' list of geometrical progressions of
the primary and most perfect kind. Continuous geometrical
proportion was chosen as the most perfect bond to connect the
four solid bodies forming the whole body of the world (31c). It
is obvious that these considerations are concerned with theories
about the nature of number and with the functions of the soul
as a bond holding the world’s body together ; they have nothing
to do with music. No one, setting out to construct a musical
scale, would start by arranging the terms of two geometrical pro-
gressions in the series

1, 2, 3, 4, 8, 9, 27.

The single series 1, 2, 4, 8 would yield a compass of three octaves.
Plato is not content with this because Pythagorean arithmetical
theory demanded that the odd numbers should be represented,
and also, perhaps, because he intends later to space the seven
planets at distances corresponding to the terms, and so needs seven
numbers. The result is that his range of notes is extended to the
compass of four octaves and a major sixth. It is idle to look for
any explanation of such a range in the science of harmonics. This
geometrical framework of the whole harmonia is determined by
arithmetical and physical preoccupations, as Adrastus seems to
have clearly perceived.

1 In Proclus the last sentences appear in a shorter form : ' Looking to the
nature of things, Plato composed the soul of all these (numbers), in order
that it may advance so far as the solid numbers, since it is to be the patron
of bodies.'

* Epinomis 991A, ‘ The first progression of the double proceeds in the integer
series in the ratio 1:2; double is the ratio of their second powers ; the
progression to the solid and tangible is again a double, the progression from
one to eight ' (trans. Harward).

HARMONY OF THE WORLD-SOUL

It follows that Plato's series of notes does not form a closed
system. If a pianist plays the white notes on a piano from C to C
tie is playing the diatonic scale in the major mode ; if from A to A,
tie is playing the diatonic scale in the minor mode. Either octave
forms a closed system whose structure is repeated in any other
Dctave in the same mode. But Plato's series of notes is simply
a. section of the diatonic scale, which might be indefinitely pro-
longed in either direction. Its limits are determined by considera-
tions which, from the musical point of view, are as arbitrary as
the decision of a pianist, playing the white notes on his instrument,
to stop at the end of four octaves and a major sixth, or the decision
of the piano-maker to extend the compass to seven octaves. The
seven notes which the Demiurge starts with can be represented,
nearly enough for purposes of illustration, by the following passage
in C major : 1

3 4 8 9 27

It should be immediately obvious that, in starting with these notes,
Plato is not laying down the framework of a scale on musical
principles. The notes are chosen because they correspond to the
terms of two geometrical proportions ending with cube numbers.

If Plato had intended merely to construct a musical scale, he
would have started, as the Pythagoreans did, with the traditional
tetractys — the arithmetical progression, i, 2, 3, 4.2 This series
(which adds up to the perfect number, 10) contains the numbers
forming the ratios of the perfect consonances : 2 : 1 (octave), 4 : 3
(fourth), 3 : 2 (fifth). These ratios, together with 9 : 8 (the interval
of the tone, which occurs between the fourth and the fifth) and
the ratio of the semitone, are in fact the ratios he will presently
use to fill in the intermediate notes. Theon, in his chapter On the

1 Following A.-H., I have represented the original notes by minims. The
double bars separate octaves. The fact that the ancient intervals differed
slightly from ours is no objection to the use of a notation which is anyhow,
in practice, differently interpreted by a violinist and a pianist. Nor does it
matter that, strictly, the notes should be written in descending order.

2 Cf. Burnet, Gk. Philos. 1, 47, for a simple account of the Pythagorean
use of this tetractys in constructing the harmonia. The Epinomis 991A-B
actually constructs it from the progression 1, 2, 4, 8 (only), by inserting the
harmonic and arithmetical means. The progression is prolonged to the cube
number to represent * the solid and tangible \

HARMONY OF THE WORLD-SOUL 35b-36b

Tetractys and the Decad , enumerates ten tetractyes (sets of four
things) which these four numbers were supposed to symbolise :

Numbers : i, 2, 3, 4.

Magnitudes : point, line, surface (i.e. triangle), solid (i.e. pyramid).

Simple Bodies : fire, air, water, earth.

Figures of Simple Bodies : pyramid, octahedron, icosahedron, cube.

Living Things ; seed, growth in length, in breadth, in thickness.

Societies : man, village, city, nation.

Faculties : reason, knowledge, opinion, sensation.

Parts of the Living Creature : body, and the three parts of soul.

Seasons of the Year : spring, summer, autumn, winter.

Ages : infancy, youth, manhood, old age.

Some of these are obviously primitive ; others show Platonic in-
fluence. They are all interpretations of the primitive tetractys ,
1, 2, 3, 4, and there are ten of them, 10 being the perfect number.
But Theon interpolates, after the first, an eleventh so-called tetractys ,
composed of ‘ the numbers with which Plato constructs the soul in
the Timaeus \ The first tetractys of numbers at the head of the
above list was formed by addition : 1, 2, 3, 4. The second (here
added) is, Theon observes, formed by multiplication ; and in order
to accommodate both even and odd numbers, it consists of two
tetractyes : 1, 2, 4, 8 and 1, 3, 9, 27, which have the number 1 in
common. Theon remarks that the numbers furnish the ratios of
the perfect consonances and of the tone. Further, he says, the
terms represent point, line (linear number), surface (square), solid
(cube). The geometrical progression thus duplicates the original
(arithmetical) tetractys of magnitudes : point, line, surface (triangle),
solid (pyramid), in which line, surface, and solid are represented
by points or dots. The substitution of two geometrical tetractyes
(1, 2, 4, 8 and 1,3, 9, 27) for one is obviously an artificial expedient
to fit Plato's series of seven numbers into the scheme. Plato
himself arranges the seven in a single row.1 The point which
concerns us is that Plato's set of seven numbers has no primary
concern with the musical scale, which had been completely and
more satisfactorily constructed on the basis of the primitive arith-
metical tetractys , 1, 2, 3, 4.

Starting, then, with these seven notes, it remains for the Demiurge
to fill in the intervening notes. This is effected by inserting,
between the numbers forming the two sets of ‘ double and triple
intervals the harmonic and arithmetical means. The effect is
to combine the two remaining types of proportion with the perfect

1 Plut., de anim. procr. 1027D, asks whether the numbers are to form one
row, as Theodorus of Soli said, or be arranged as in Crantor’s diagram.
Pr. ii, 23715, vevoijaffeoaav ovv ol api.9fj.oi navres itf>* ivos yeypap.fj.evoi Kavovos.

HARMONY OF THE WORLD-SOUL

md primary geometrical type. At this point, for the first time,
erms associated with music begin to be used.

J5C. Next, he went on to fill up both the double and the triple
36. intervals, cutting off yet more parts from the original mixture
and placing them between the terms, so that within each
interval there were two means, the one (harmonic) exceeding
the one extreme and being exceeded by the other by the
same fraction of the extremes, the other (arithmetic) exceeding
the one extreme by the same number whereby it was exceeded
by the other.1

These links gave rise to intervals of f and f and f within
the original intervals.

When we insert the harmonic and arithmetical means between each
two successive terms of the original series, we obtain :

harm, arith.

Omitting the numbers in brackets, which occur in both series, we
obtain the single series :

3 2

2-34

16 6

8 9

If we now fill in the corresponding notes, the result is as follows :

I |f 2 §3 4| 89 f 18 2 7

As the last sentence remarks, this ‘ gives rise to intervals of a fifth
(|) or a fourth (f ) or a tone (f ) within the original intervals \ The
final step, taken in the next sentence, is to fill up every tetrachord
with two intervals of a tone (f) and a remainder (f|-f) nearly
equivalent to our semitone.

b. And he went on to fill up all the intervals of f (i.e. fourths)
with the interval f (the tone), leaving over in each a fraction.

1 If we take for illustration the extremes 6 and 12, the harmonic mean is 8,
exceeding the one extreme (6) by one-third of 6 and exceeded by the other
extreme (12) by one-third of 12. The arithmetic mean is 9, exceeding 6 and
falling short of 12 by the same number, 3.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL 36b-d

36B. This remaining interval of the fraction had its terms in the
numerical proportion of 256 to 243 (semitone).

By this time the mixture from which he was cutting off
these portions was all used up.

If we take the first octave (two disjunct tetrachords), the result
can be illustrated (approximately) as follows, though Plato would
have thought of the tetrachord in the shape A G F E, rather than
C D E F:

9 £ 4
8 64 3

3 27 243

2 16 128

9. 9 256 9. 9. 9. 256
8 8 243 8 8 8 243

The process, continued throughout the remaining tetrachords,
completes the whole range of notes from i to 27. The upshot is
that Plato has constructed a section of the diatonic scale, whose
range is fixed by considerations extraneous to music. The harmonic
and arithmetic means have their place in musical theory as deter-
mining the intervals of the fourth and the fifth. The two geo-
metrical progressions merely impose an arbitrary limit to the
compass. They are introduced in order that the type of proportion
which was regarded as primary and most perfect may be repre-
sented, and for other non-musical purposes.

It should be noted that nothing is said, here or elsewhere in the
Timaeus, of any music of the heavens that might be audible to
human ears. Plato, no doubt, had in mind this old Pythagorean
fancy ; for it figures in the vision of Er in Republic x. But in the
Timaeus the harmony resides in the structure of the soul ; it is
not connected with audible tones whose pitch had been imagined
as depending on the relative speeds of the planetary motions.1

36B-D. Construction of the Circles of the Same and the Different
and the planetary circles

Timaeus now speaks as if the Demiurge had made a long band
of soul-stuff, marked off by the intervals of his scale. This he
proceeds to slit lengthwise into two strips, which he puts together
by their middles and bends round into two circles or rings, corre-
sponding to the sidereal equator and the Zodiac.

1 Tr. (p. 164) imports the music of the heavens into the Timaeus, and then
attributes to Timaeus a form of the doctrine which is in ‘ absolute contra-
diction * with his astronomy.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

j6b. This whole fabric, then, he split lengthwise into two halves ;
and making the two cross one another at their centres in the
c. form of the letter X, he, bent each round into a circle and
joined it up, making each meet itself and the other at a point
opposite to that where they had been brought into contact.

He then comprehended them in the motion that is carried
round uniformly in the same place, and made the one the
outer, the other the inner circle. The outer movement he
named the movement of the Same ; the inner, the move-
ment of the Different. The movement of the Same he
caused to revolve to the right by way of the side ; the move-
ment of the Different to the left by way of the diagonal.

Plutarch (de audiendo 43 a) mentions young men who show off
their knowledge of mathematics by propounding problems such as
the meaning of ‘ by way of the side ', or ‘ by way of the diagonal \
The terms were, no doubt, unfamiliar to the layman. The plane
of the Zodiac is inclined to the plane of the equator as the diagonal
of a rectangle to its side. The rectangle in question is to be ‘ in-
serted between the summer and winter Tropics ' (Pr. ii, 261 22).

In the diagram, AB is a diameter of the summer Tropic, CD a
diameter of the winter Tropic, CB the diagonal of the rectangle
obtained by joining AC, BD. The movement of the Same is a
movement of the whole Sphere from East (Left) to West (Right)
in the plane of the Equator (EF), which is parallel to the planes
of the Tropics and so is ' by way of the sides ’ AB, CD. The
movement of the Different is in the reverse sense and in the plane
of the diagonal CB, which is a diameter of the Ecliptic, a great
circle touching the summer Tropic at a point (B) in Cancer, and
the winter Tropic at a point (C) in Capricorn. The Zodiac is a

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL 36b-d

broad band, containing the twelve signs, along the centre of which
runs the Ecliptic. Adrastus (Theon, p. 245) similarly describes
the Zodiac as * inclined to the three parallel circles, the equinoctial,
and the winter and summer tropics \

As Proclus remarks (ii, 258 20), in the traditional * Tables of
Opposites ‘ Right * stood in the column of superior things, ' Left '
in the column of the inferior. This is probably Plato's reason for
making the circle of the Same revolve ‘ to the right ', the other
circle ‘ to the left \ The Same must have the superior motion.
(Cf. Heath, Aristarchus , 163.)

36c. And he gave the supremacy to the revolution of the Same
D. and uniform ; for he left that single and undivided ; but
the inner revolution he split in six places into seven unequal
circles, severally corresponding with the double and triple
intervals, of each of which there were three. And he
appointed that the circles should move in opposite senses
to one another ; while in speed three should be similar, but
the other four should differ in speed from one another and
from the three, though moving according to ratio.

The language of the myth has here described the construction of a
material model of the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, an armil-
lary sphere.1 The Demiurge takes a band of some pliable stuff,
cuts it lengthwise into two strips, makes them touch at their middles
and bends them round to form two rings, inclined to one another.
He then takes one of the rings and cuts it up into seven smaller
rings of unequal size, which he fits inside about the common centre.
One expression, in particular, is appropriate only to a material
model : the second ring or ‘ circle ' is said to be ‘ inside ' the first.
Plato is not imagining strictly geometrical circles, such as would
appear on the surface of a celestial globe, for these would have
the same diameter. But in a material model, made (say) of copper
bands, one band would naturally be fastened 4 inside ’ the other.
That the Academy possessed an armillary sphere may be inferred
from Timaeus' later remark (40c) that the intricate movements
of the planets cannot be explained without a visible model.2 Plato
probably had it before him as he wrote. Theon 3 tells us that he
had himself made a ‘ sphere ' ( ocpaiqonoda ) to illustrate the Spindle

1 Pr. ii, 281 19 : Plato all but speaks of the divine Craftsman as using the
tools of Hephaestus, forging the whole heaven, giving it a pattern of figures,
turning the bodies on a lathe, and shaping each to its proper form.

8 So Wilamowitz, Platon . ii, 390. Ep. ii, 31 2D, mentions such a sphere
(o<j>aipiov) . Cf. Apelt, note 89 (p. 163).

8 Theon, p. 238, quoting Timaeus 40c.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

of Necessity in the Myth of Er. This Spindle is not the cosmos,
but a model of a primitive kind,1 with a shaft of adamant for axis,
and a ‘ whorl * composed of a blend of adamant and other sub-
stances. The whorl consists of eight concentric hemispheres, fitted
into one another like a nest of bowls, and capable of moving separ-
ately. The upper half of each sphere is cut away so that the
internal 4 works 1 may be seen. The rims of the hemispheres
correspond to the eight circles of the Timaeus . The outermost
represents the equator of the sphere of the fixed stars, or more
strictly the motion of that sphere, which carries round with it the
whole of its contents, including the seven inner circles, from east
to west. The inner circles revolve at different speeds in the opposite
sense. All this is in agreement with our passage. A point of
difference is that the Spindle does not provide for the seven inner
circles being inclined at an angle to the outermost. But it must
be remembered that the Spindle is, as Stewart remarks, a vision
within a vision, and Plato could hardly be expected to distort its
shape to provide for the obliquity of the planetary orbits. It is
naive to infer that he was ignorant of features which a mythical
image could not accommodate.

The model made by the Demiurge is of a less primitive pattern,
forming what the ancients called an ‘ armillary sphere ' {xQLxcorrj
ocpaiga), in which the motions of the outermost sphere and of the
planets are represented by rings (xqlxol).2 No doubt the ‘ sphere '
at the Academy was of this kind, a simpler construction than the
' mechanical sphere ' of Archimedes, which is said to have reproduced
simultaneously all the celestial motions. The outermost ring
corresponds to the equator of the sphere of the fixed stars. It is

1 This was pointed out by J. A. Stewart, Myths of Plato, 165. Cf. Heath,
Aristarchus, 155.

2 Pr. ii, 24931, mentions a dispute whether the two original circles are
without breadth (in which case how can one of them be slit up ?) or are rings
(KpiKoi), * situated on the surface of the sphere as in armillary spheres '.
At iii, 14526, he mentions the armillary sphere with the dpaKlov and the
astrolabe (also formed of rings) as instances of the * visible models ' required
to illustrate the planetary motions. Daremberg and Saglio, s.v. Astronomia,
give pictures and descriptions of astronomical instruments. Among the
titles of Democritus’ mathematical works is *£WeTa<tyiaTa (projections of the
armillary sphere on a plane, Diels-Kranz, Vors.5, ii, 14 1, 25 note).

The eighteenth-century armillary sphere represented in the frontispiece to
this book has the Earth in the centre fixed to the stand. The sphere, which
revolves round the Earth, consists of the arctic and antarctic circles, the
two tropics, and the equator, supported by meridian circles, to which the
band of the zodiac is attached on the outside. There are no planetary rings,
such as can be seen in more complicated patterns, figured and described by
Dr. R. T. Gunther, Early Science in Oxford .

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

36b-d

a ring, not a sphere, simply because a complete metal globe would
hide from view the inner rings. So both hemispheres are cut away,
leaving only the equatorial band. This symbolises the revolution
of the sphere as a whole, which involves every star in the heavens
and all the contents of the universe. As Aristotle, summarising
our passage, says, 4 the revolutions [tpoQai) of the heaven are regarded
as the motions (mvijaeig) of the soul 1 (de an. 407A, 1). The * outer
revolution * (?? e^ccxpoQa, 36c) is the same as the movement of the
whole body of the universe described earlier (34A), not a movement
of the fixed stars only. It has the ' supremacy ' over the other
circles in the sense that (as in the Spindle of Necessity) it carries
round with it all the contents of the sphere, including the planets,
though these have also motions of their own in the opposite sense.
It may be added that this motion of the whole body of the world 1
must affect also the Earth at the centre, which would accordingly
rotate with the heavens unless the motion were somehow counter-
acted. We shall return to this point in discussing the rotation of
the Earth (p. 130).

When the motion of the Same is considered as a motion of the
World-Soul, apart from the physical motions of the world's body,
its ‘ supremacy ' may be understood as the supremacy of Reason
in the World-Soul, regulating its other motions, its judgments
and desires. For the Soul has other motions, symbolised by the
circle of the Different ; and since the Different is associated with
the planets and the Wandering Cause [nXavojiievri akia), the
possibility remains that even the World-Soul is not wholly rational.
The sphere of the fixed stars, where the motion of the Same is
conspicuously manifested, is actually called ‘ the intelligence of the
supreme * at 40A. But we are here concerned to explain the
astronomical meaning of our passage.

The inner ring, the circle of the Different, before it is subdivided,
must be identified with the Zodiac, rather than with the ecliptic,
the great circle bisecting the signs of the Zodiac longitudinally
and traced by the Sun's annual journey through the signs. The
Sun is one of the seven planets, and its motion, parallel to the ecliptic,
corresponds to one of the seven rings subsequently formed. ‘ Where-
as each of the other circles has for its circumference a single line,
the Zodiac has a certain breadth, like the circular frame of a timbrel,
and on it are displayed the signs. The name " circle through the
middle of the signs ” is given to the great circle (ecliptic) which
touches the two tropics at a single point in each and bisects the
equinoctial. The two circles which limit the breadth of the Zodiac

1 Pr. ii, 259s*, iv tu> navrl to p,kv anXaves nayrcuv earl KpaTJjTL/coy, Ka$’ cva
kvkXov ra iravra irtpiayov.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

are smaller/ Within these limits the seven planets move in their
several orbits.1

In an armillary sphere the two rings would have to be attached
to a vertical (meridian) ring supporting them and itself revolving
on the axis perpendicular to the plane of the equator. This feature
of the model is so obviously necessary that Chalcidius saw a reference
to it in the text. When the Demiurge had brought the two rings
into contact with one another, ‘ he comprehended them in the
motion which is carried round uniformly in the same place \2
Chalcidius understood that he * bound the two circles round with
another outside circle, whose revolution is always uniform \3 This
is 4 a meridian circle on the surface of the sphere of the fixed stars,
touching both poles \ Its revolution (the movement of the Same)
would describe the figure of that sphere, as Chalcidius remarks.
The equatorial circle will still symbolise the plane of this revolution.
Plato's phrase suits this view remarkably well,4 though on the
surface it may mean no more than ‘ he set the two circles revolving \
I am inclined to think that Chalcidius rightly divined what Plato
was imagining — a feature of his model which it would not suit his
purpose to mention as a third ring. It is rather the trace left by
the ' carrying round ' of a meridian circle, namely the surface of
the sphere considered as symbolising a motion. This image would
help to explain the later statement that the fixed stars, which are
scattered all over the sphere, were ‘ set in the intelligence of the
supreme (i.e. the rational revolution of the Same) to keep company
with it * (40 a). The stars are not set in the equator, but in the
motion symbolised by the sphere’s surface.

At this point there is some obscurity about the procedure of the
Demiurge. He first sets the Zodiac in contact with the equator
and gives it a movement in the opposite sense. But he then
divides the broad band of the Zodiac into seven smaller rings, and
sets these at intervals between the centre and the circumference
of the sphere. In an armillary sphere the Zodiac would naturally
be a permanent feature attached to the equator and moving with

1 Theon, pp. 218, 214 (after Adrastus).

2 At 36c, 2, Kal rfj Kara raxna eV ravrco rrepiayo^vp Ktv'qae^ 7T^/h£ auras IAaj3eu.
A.-H. understood that the two circles are * encompassed by a moving spherical
envelope, being the circumference of the entire sphere of soul revolving Kara
raxna /cat ev ravrw. He does not refer to Chalcidius.

3 Chalcid. Comment , p. 163 : Ut si quis . . . hos . . . ipsos (circulos) extefiore
alio circulo, cuius motus conversioque idem semper et uniformis sit, circumliget,
id est aplani. The diagram printed by Wrobel is absurd. Chalcidius must
have intended a diagram like that on p. 73 above.

4 Cf. Euclid's definition of the Sphere (quoted above, p. 54) as the figure
* comprehended ’ (^piK^div) by a (meridian) semi-circle, which is ‘ carried
round ’ (ncpwexdev) to its starting-point.

P.C. 77

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

36b-d ?

compounded of the motion of the Same, which they share with the ;
fixed stars, and the opposite motion of the Different, distributed :
among their seven circles. But we are now told that some of the
seven circles have a motion contrary to that of others :

' He appointed that the circles should move in opposite senses
to one another ; while in speed three should be similar, but the
other four should differ in speed from one another and from
the three, though moving according to ratio/

The natural sense of this statement is as follows : (i) The circles
are the seven planetary circles mentioned just before. (2) Some
of them have a motion contrary to that of the rest. (3) Three
have a similar 1 speed. (It appears later (38D) that these three
are the Sun, Venus, and Mercury.) The other four (Moon, Mars,
Jupiter, Saturn) have different speeds from one another and from
the three. (4) It is not stated or implied that the three with similar
speed are the set which move in one sense, the four with different
speeds the set which move in the opposite sense. The two clauses
are distinct : one (xara ravavrla juiv . . .) refers to the sense of the
movements intended ; the other (ra^et de . . . ) to relative speeds. ,
Commentators have been led to depart from this natural inter-
pretation partly by another set of difficulties connected with the
statement at 38D that Venus and Mercury ‘ possess the tendency
contrary to that of the Sun \2 As will appear, the contrary ten-
dency there invoked is to account for the fact that Venus and
Mercury, although (as we are here told) they keep near the Sun
and finish their annual course in the same period, sometimes drop
behind the Sun and then get in front of him again.3 The tendency,
in fact, is invoked to explain retrogradation. There is, as we shall
see, some connection between the contrary power (or tendency)
ascribed to Venus and Mercury as against the Sun and the contrary
tendency in our passage of some of the circles as against others.
But it is impossible to interpret our passage as meaning that Venus
and Mercury have a movement contrary to that of all the other five

1 * Similar ’ or * corresponding ’ (ofiolojs) means that their actual velocities
in their orbits are such that all three complete their orbits in the same period
(the solar year). They have the same angular velocity.

2 See the views discussed in Heath, Aristarchus, pp. 165 ff.

8 The Sun, Venus, and Mercury keep together in a group. The true reason
is, of course, that the orbits of Venus and Mercury are embraced by the
Earth's orbit, so that an observer looking from the Earth towards the Sun
will never see them at a greater distance from the Sun than the radii of their
respective orbits, a distance which the ancients estimated at 50° for Venus
and 200 for Mercury. Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn are outside the Earth’s
orbit, and the Moon goes round the Earth. Consequently these four may
be seen at any angular distance from the Sun.

) CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

f planets, without a flagrant contradiction of easily observed phe-
J nomena. Venus and Mercury, accordingly, cannot be simply
: identified with either of the sets of circles here said to move in
* contrary senses. We must, for the present, ignore that later state-
j ment and consider, independently of it, the question how some
■ of the circles can go contrary to the rest, and which circles are
/ meant. In the whole of this discussion we shall not be concerned
; with retrogradation, which can be left entirely out of account.
\ The temptation to construe the sentence unnaturally is chiefly
due to its supposed inconsistency with the earlier statement that
: the motion of the Different, contrary to the motion of the Same,
is distributed among all the seven circles. This difficulty leads
'Some to the desperate expedient of supposing that ‘ the circles ’

: means, not the seven circles mentioned in the first part of the
sentence, but the two original circles of the Same and the Different.1
Others see that this construction is really impossible and give up
the problem as insoluble.2

There is one possible meaning consistent with the text, which,
however obscurely it may be expressed, must be preferred to
meanings which the Greek words cannot bear and to sheer nonsense.
One element of obscurity we can eliminate at once by substituting
the moving bodies, the planets themselves, for the moving circles
of which Plato speaks. Plato does not mean that there really are
revolving material rings, to which the planets are fastened. The
planets move freely ; the circles only mark their orbits and sym-
bolise their motions. He speaks of circles because his plan demands
that the creation of the planetary bodies shall not be described
till later. It must also be premised that the science of mechanics
£ was still unborn. Plato had not the notions of force or of mass.
r In Republic vii he regards the science of the motion of a body in
three dimensions (pog a fiddovg, 528E) as a sort of pure astronomy,
for which the observed behaviour of stars and planets will provide
illustrations and problems. The bodies dealt with in this science
[ are simply geometrical solids with no physical properties except
| extension and position in space, and the object is to study the
| relative speed and slowness of their motions. So also in the
| Gorgias Socrates speaks of astronomy as concerned with the relative
speeds of stars, sun, and moon (451c). As a consequence of this

1 So Pr. ii, 26414, after mentioning other views ; Apelt ; Tr.

2 Cicero rightly understood that the seven circles revolve contrariis inter se
cursibus. Fraccaroli (pp. 193 ff.) agrees, and Heath (Aristarchus, p. 163)
recognises that the words * can only mean that a certain number of the seven
revolve in one direction, and the rest in the other \ But neither offers any
solution.

36b-]

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

point of view, where we should think of the composition of forces
Plato thinks of the composition of motions. It is natural to hin
to regard the actual composite motion of a body as t*_e resultant
not of two forces, but of two motions, a faster and a slower, taking
place in contrary directions. This conception is the key to th<
present problem.

The solution can only be that the actual motion of some planet*
is the resultant, not only of the two motions previously mentioned
(the motions of Same and of the Different), but also of a third here
added, (i) The motion of the Same carries round the entire
universe with all its contents, relatively to absolute space.1 If
that motion operated alone, there would be no change in the relative
positions of any parts of the universe. It can accordingly be
ignored in the present discussion. (2) The motion of the Different,
as we saw, was a single motion, shared out among the seven plane-
tary circles. As single, it will affect the bodies afterwards placed
in those circles as if all the seven circles moved together, like a solid
disc, with ' similar speed \ i.e. with the same angular velocity.
This distribution of the single revolution of a disc to larger and
smaller circles within its circumference is described at Laws 893c :
‘ We observe in the case of this revolution that such a motion
carries round the greatest and the smallest circle together, dividing
itself proportionately to lesser and greater, and being itself pro-
portionately less and greater. This, in fact, is what makes it a
source of all sorts of marvels, since it supplies greater and smaller
circles at once with velocities high or low answering to their sizes —
an effect one might have imagined impossible ' (trans. Taylor).
The revolution of the Different may be illustrated by the motion
of a moving staircase, on which seven passengers are standing.2
Suppose that the staircase is moving downwards. If this were all,
the seven planets, though shifting (eastwards) against the back-
ground of the fixed stars (represented by the stationary walls

1 The expression * absolute space ' is justified by the fact that Plato certainly
regards the rotation of the whole universe as a real motion, with a period of
24 hours, although there is nothing outside — not even empty space — to
which the motion can be relative. The world rotates in its own place ; the
place does not rotate with it. For this distinction between a body and its
‘ place *, see below, p. 195.

2 The ancient commentators used a similar (but less convenient) comparison.
The Same was represented by the movement of a ship (westwards), the
motion of the planets by passengers walking along the deck towards the
stern (eastwards). Chalcidius, p. 166 : ut in navigando, cum ad destinata
uenti pulsu naui uolante e regione prorae quidam ex nauigantibus ad puppim
recurrunt. Hyginus, Poet. Astron. iv, 13, necesse est eum ( solem ) contra mundi
inclinationem currere. Quare autem euenit, ut ante diximus, quod uidetur cum
mundo sol uerti , eius similis haec est causa , ut si quis in nauiculae rostro sedens

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

enclosing the staircase), would keep their relative positions, all
being equally subject to the motion of the staircase. The present
passage explains why they do not.

Let us take first the differences of speed, which are, in fact,
sufficient to account for the changes of relative position. I suggest
that we may take the Sun with his two companions, Venus and
Mercury, as proceeding at the standard speed, against which the
.peeds of the remaining four will be measured. The Sun is obviously
pre-eminent among the planets 1 and his period, the year, is the
most important. The year is the cycle of life on Earth, which
moves in that period through its round of birth, maturity, death,
and rebirth. This movement of life was connected by Aristotle
with the ' inclined circle ’ (the ecliptic) marking the Sun's apparent
annual track through the signs. The ancients thus attribute to
the motion of the Sun all those seasonal changes which we, on the
heliocentric theory, attribute to the annual revolution of the
Earth.2 Already, in the Republic (509B), the Sun has been called the
cause of the becoming (birth, yhecng), growth, and nourishment of
all visible things, ‘ though not himself yeveatg* ; just as the Good
is the cause of the being (ovala) of intelligible things, though itself
* beyond being \ This association of the Sun and its inclined circle
with becoming and mutability and so with ‘ the Different 1 suggests
that the movement of the Sun (shared by his two companions) is
the actual movement of the Different , with a speed unmodified by any
individual variations. Obviously, if any planet exhibits the actual
motion of the Different, it must be either the Sun or the Moon.
Not to mention their superior conspicuousness, these are the only
two planets which go steadily forward, without stations or retro-

inquirat ( inde quaerat, Scheff.) ad puppim transire, et nihilominus ipsa nauis
iter suum conficiat : ille quidem uidebitur contra nauiculae cursum ire , sed
tamen eodem perueniet quo nauis.

1 Epin. 986E, ' Of these three (Sun, Venus, Mercury) it must needs be that
the one with an intelligence equal to the task (the Sun) leads the way \
Albinus, Didasc. xiv, rjXios fxev rjycfiovevei navrcov (rd>v vXavqTwv ), Seitcvus re Kai
<f>cuv<av ra ovjJuravTa.

2 Ar., de gen. et corr. ii, 10, 336a, 32 ff. ‘ It is not the primary motion (of
the First Heaven) that causes coming-to-be and passing-away, but the motion
along the inclined circle ; for this motion not only possesses the necessary
continuity, but includes a duality of movements as well/ The lifetime of
every living thing has a period, which in some cases is a year, in others shorter
or longer. Coming-to-be occurs as the Sun approaches, decay as it retreats.
With the revolution of the Sun the seasons come to be in a cycle, and so the
becoming of living things, initiated by the seasons, is also cyclical. Cf.
Adrastus (Theon, p. 242) : In the sublunary region there is becoming and
perishing, growth and diminution, every sort of qualitative change and
variety of locomotion. Of all these things the planets are the cause, and
chiefly the Sun and Moon, by virtue of their composite movements.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL 36b-,

gradations. It seems likely that the motion of one or the othe
will be compounded solely of the Same (which is common to all.
and the Different. Both were associated with the mutability oj
earthly things, and the Moon, with her phases, had strong claims
which were duly recognised. But the Sun's claim is strongei
because his period embraces the whole round of seasonal life.
Every year is a repetition of the last one, whereas the months an*
very different in character : June is not a repetition of Decern**
That is why the ecliptic is the trace of the Sun's apparent annual
path, not of the Moon's apparent monthly path, through the signs.
The solar year, then, will be the period of a revolution of the Different*
just as twenty-four hours is the period of a revolution of the Same.
We may thus compare the Sun, Venus, and Mercury (the ‘ three
with similar speed ') to a group of passengers who stand still on one
step of the moving staircase, which carries them slowly downwards.
The staircase is bent round in a continuous band. Imagine this
to be circular, and that the passengers can travel round and round.
This group of three will then, at the end of a year, be back again
at their initial position.

There are four more passengers on the staircase. The remaining
planets are the Moon, who is between the Earth and the Sun group,
and the three outer planets, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn. All these differ
in speed from the Sun group and from one another. The Moon
revolves rapidly in her orbit — the smallest of all — round the Earth.
She moves much faster 1 than the Sun, completing over twelve
monthly rounds to one of his yearly revolutions. The three outer
planets are slower than the Sun. Mars was estimated in antiquity
to take a little less than 2 years, Jupiter about 12 years, Saturn
a little less than 30. 2

There is thus a contrast between the behaviour of the Moon and
that of the outer three, causing a phenomenon which Theon describes
as follows :

' The conjunctions of the planets with the Sun and their
appearances and disappearances, which we call their risings and
settings, are not the same for all the planets. The Moon, after
her conjunction with the Sun, since she has a swifter movement
than his towards the antecedent signs (eastwards), always makes
her first appearance or * rising ' in the evening and disappears
or * sets ' in the morning. Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, on the
contrary, since they reach the antecedent signs more slowly than

1 Boeckh pointed out that * faster ’ and ‘ slower * as applied to the planets
here does not mean absolute velocity. The faster planet is the one which
completes its circuit in the shorter time, i.e. has the higher angular velocity.

2 Theon, p. 222.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

the Sun, as if overtaken and passed by him, always set in the

evening and rise in the morning (after their conjunction).’ 1

To return to our illustration : three passengers (Sun, Venus,
Mercury), as a group , stand still on the staircase and move with it.
The other four, being alive, can walk either up or down the stair-
case and so get farther and farther from the stationary group. If
J^e staircase is bent round in a circle, they will pass through all
angles of divergence till they rejoin the group (conjunction with
the Sun). But they do not all walk the same way. One (the
Moon) runs down the staircase, so fast that he overtakes and passes
the group nearly thirteen times while the group is making one
rircuit. The other three move the opposite way , mounting the stair-
case, at different rates of speed. They are, of course, all the time
being carried downwards by the staircase ; but by walking upwards
at lesser rates of speed they slow down this movement and get
away from the stationary group. In respect of their individual
voluntary motion, the three who are mounting can be said to be
moving in the contrary direction to all the other four, for they
alone are moving against the motion of the staircase. These three
also will pass through all angles of divergence before they rejoin
the group (conjunction with the Sun). But their behaviour will
contrast with that of the Moon in the manner described by Theon.

Here a diagram may be useful.

Earth

'•W

The outer circle is the orbit of Jupiter, the inner circle the orbit
of the Sun. Suppose that on i January 1934 the Sun at S1 and

1 1 Pr. ii, 264*, reproduces this : ‘ Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars make their

first appearance after conjunction with the Sun as morning stars because the
Sun moves in the direction of the antecedent signs more quickly than they ;
I the Moon, on the contrary, first appears in the West because, moving more
I quickly than the Sun, she is seen to the East of the Sun.

* o .

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL 36b-

Jupiter at J1 were in conjunction. If the two rings were bot
subject only to the motion of the Different from West to Eas ,
they would move ‘ with similar speed ’, i.e. the same angular
velocity. Then at the end of a year both planets would have
completed one revolution, remaining in conjunction all the time
and returned to their original positions. But this is not wha,
happens. By i January 1935 the Sun will have completed 01 v
revolution and be back at S1 ; but Jupiter will have moved oni
a twelfth part of his course, from J1 to J2. Jupiter must therefor
have counteracted the common motion of the Different. Insteac
of allowing this motion to swing him round in perpetual conjunction
with the Sun, he slows it down by an additional motion in th(
opposite sense (westwards) rapid enough to let the Different carry
him only as far as J2. If we imagine his orbit as a moving circular
platform on which he is walking, the platform will complete its
revolution eastwards in one solar year, but Jupiter will have walked
along it westwards its length. This individual motion is

contrary to that of the Sun (with his companions Venus and Mer-
cury) and to that of the Moon. It is symbolised by Jupiter’s
individual circle. The planet, while subject to the westward motion
of the Same in the plane of the equator and also to the eastward
motion of the Different in the plane of the ecliptic , has its own
motion westwards in the plane of the ecliptic, counteracting the
Different.

To sum up : if we leave out of account the motion of the Same,
which affects all the seven planets equally, the proper movements
of the planets, relatively to one another, are as follows : (1) The Sun,
Venus, and Mercury, taken as a group with ' similar speed ’, com-
plete their course together in a solar year. Their proper motior
is identical with that of the Different. (2) The Moon has an
additional motion which carries her faster in the same sense. (3)
The three outer planets move in the same sense inasmuch as they
share in the motion of the Different. But they have, individually,
the power of counteracting that movement in various degrees, and
so slowing it down. These three planets are the set which have
additional, individual motions in the opposite sense to the others.
(It should be noted that these additional motions are strictly
contrary to the Different, to which the Same, being in another
plane, is not strictly contrary.) So, and only so, can it be true
that two sets of circles (or bodies moving in those circles), though
all moving in one sense with the common motion of the Different,
have individual motions f in opposite senses relatively to one another *
(xax a ravavria aXXrjXoiq) .

We can now see why the changes in the relative positions of the

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

planets are not ascribed merely to differences of speed, though

Lat would be a possible way of representing the facts. The
.dditional motion of the three outer planets is contrary to the
[notion of the Different, which is exhibited without modifications
$>y the Sun group ; whereas the Moon's motion is in the same sense
as the Different, which it merely accelerates. The result will be
that, in returning to conjunction with the Sun, the Moon will
overtake the Sun as it were from behind, whereas the Sun himself
will overtake and pass the three outer planets. This is the pheno-
fmenon noted by Theon : ‘ The Moon after her conjunction with
I the Sun, since she has a swifter movement than his towards the
antecedent signs (eastwards), always makes her first appearance
or “ rising " in the evening and disappears or “ sets ” in the morning.
Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars, on the contrary, since they reach the
antecedent signs more slowly than the Sun, as if overtaken and
passed by him, always set in the evening and rise in the morning
(after their conjunction).'

The third force which modifies the motion of some of the planets
is left unexplained. The reason is that the planets themselves
have not yet been mentioned at all.1 Later we shall learn that,
like the fixed stars, they are divine living creatures with souls ;
and these souls must have the power of self-motion, since that is
the very definition of soul. It is, presumably, the self-motion of
the planets that enables them either to counteract the motion of
the Different to some extent or to reinforce it. If this is the
explanation, it could not be given here in a passage which describes
only a system of motions without reference to the bodies that
have them. It is consistent with the statement of Dercylides, who
maintained that, according to Plato, all the planets had a ' voluntary
and unforced motion ' and blamed Aristotle, Menaechmus, and
Callippus for introducing spheres to which they attached the
heavenly bodies, as though these were inanimate and needed
material spheres to carry them round.2

The interpretation offered above is confirmed by the description

1 Pr. ii, 265 s, (jlovovs yovv tovs kvkXovs €V rfj *pvxfj Bets avev rcov acrrepouv — othrca
yap vrreoTrjcrav — tovtovs €<f>aro Ktvciodai.

2 Theon, p. 327, 7raai 8k Tqv kCvtjoiv irpoaipeTiKrjv /cat a fiiacrrov etvai. Aristotle
is accused by Ritter (Platon ii, 372) of a ' depravation * of Eudoxus’ system
of geometrical spheres. But Eudoxus was a mathematician concerned only
with making a map of the celestial motions on the assumption that they
must all be reducible to circular movements, as Plato taught. Aristotle was
a physicist, concerned with making these motions work mechanically. Since
he believed action at a distance to be impossible, the only way by which
the movement of the Same (or any other revolution) could be communicated
to an inferior body was by means of material spheres in actual contact with
one another.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

36b-i^

of the Spindle of Necessity in the Myth of Er (Rep. 617A), where
the counter-movement of the three outer planets is explicitly
mentioned, though its significance has not been understood.

‘ The Spindle turns round as a whole with one motion ; arn^
within the whole, as it revolves, the seven circles revolve slowly
in the opposite sense/

Here, as in the Timaeus, the two main motions — of the Same,!
affecting the whole, and of the Different, shared by all seven circles
— are first mentioned. Next come the different speeds of the seven
circles and the changes in the relative positions of the planets :

‘ And of these circles themselves, the eighth (Moon) moves
the most swiftly ; second in speed and all moving together, the
seventh, sixth, and fifth (Sun, Venus, Mercury) ; third in speed
moves the fourth (Mars), as it appeared to them , with a counter-
revolution, fourth, the third (Jupiter), and fifth, the second
(Saturn)/ 1

Adam and Heath rightly recognise that EnavaxvxXelaOai (as
distinct from avaxvxXeTadai) means ' counter-revolution \ But
counter to what ? The movement of all the seven circles contrary
to the fixed stars was mentioned in the previous sentence ; it is
shared by all the planets. Why should Plato, in an exceedingly
compressed account, mention it again, precisely at the point where
the three outer planets are introduced, after the group of three
which keep together ? I can only understand it as a reference to
the doctrine of our passage, that the three outer planets (to all of
which, I take it, the phrase applies) appear to have a movement
contrary to the Moon and to the Sun, Venus, and Mercury, modi-
fying the movement shared by all. The word ETiavaxvxArjOig occurs,

1 61 JB, rpirov 8e <f>opq. Uvai, (bs o<f>icn <f>a£v€o9(U, inavaKVKXovpLevov rov riraprov,
reraprov Se tov rpirov , koX TrepLTrrov rov hevrepov. Adam {ad loc.) : ‘ The revolu-
tion relatively to that of the whole is retrograde ; hence e tt a v a kvkXov -
p,€vov.’ Heath {Aristarchus, p. viii) : * what is meant is a simple circular
revolution in a sense contrary to that of the fixed stars, and there is no
suggestion of retrogradations \ Heath (Gk. Astron., p. 48) translates accord-
ingly : ‘ third in the speed of its counter-revolution the fourth appears to
move Theon (p. 236) quoting Rep . 61 7B (not very accurately) has rpirov
8e <f>opq. Uvat, ov <f>aai (for ws o<f>£oi) (f>aiv€oda.L inavaKVKXovpLevov <rov reraprov >
fxdXiarra rwv aXXcov. Burnet (E.G.P.8, p. 304 n.) thought that naXiora rtov
aXXwv might be a line that had dropped out of the text of Plato. If so,
I should understand it as meaning that, while ol aXXou, the three outer
planets, all have the counter-revolution, it is most apparent in the case of
Mars, who takes only two years to complete his orbit. Burnet took cVava/cu-
tcXovfxcvov to mean retrogradation. But retrogradation is not confined to Mars
or to the three outer planets — a fact which Plato recognises later (38D).

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

so far as I know, only once elsewhere in Plato, in a passage which
bears out my interpretation. After describing the individual
motions of the heavenly bodies and of Earth, due to their living
souls, Plato says that all the effects resulting from so complicated
a system of motions cannot be understood in detail without a visible
model. These effects include the ways in which they gain upon
and pass one another, their conjunctions and oppositions, and ‘ the
counter-revolutions of the circles relatively to one another ,.1 In the
Myth of Er, the outer planets moved * as it appeared to them (the
souls), with a counter-revolution \ Plato is not wasting words :
there is a sense in which the counter-revolution is only apparent.
The souls, watching the turning circles in their vision, see the Moon
speeding ahead of the Sun group, while the outer three drop behind
and get farther and farther away. They would * appear ' to be
moving in the contrary direction, like our three passengers who
walked the opposite way to the rest ; but their actual motion is
(as we have already been told) governed by the movement of the
Different. The bodies stationed in the circles are really moving
the same way as the others, though more slowly as against the
standard speed set by the Sun.

On the other hand, as I shall try to show later (p. 108), this
power of the planets’ individual souls to counteract the motion of
the Different is invoked by Plato for another purpose. In our
passage and in Republic x it explains a peculiarity of the three
outer planets in contrast with all the rest. The effect is a slowing
down of the planet’s main motion, without real change of sense.
But there is also the very striking phenomenon of retrogradation.
Vs we watch the planets against the background of the fixed stars,
11, except the Sun and Moon, appear at times to stand still, move
>ackwards a certain distance, and then go forward again. This
topic, however, had better be reserved till we reach the point where
Plato introduces it (38D).

Here, it remains to point out that in this description of the
composite motion of the planets there is nothing inconsistent with
the Laws or the Epinomis. At Laws 82 ib the Athenian, addressing
men supposed to be totally ignorant of astronomy, remarks that
nearly all Greeks falsely say that Sun and Moon and certain other
stars are never travelling along the same path ( oddv ), and so call

1 40c, ras ra>v kvkXojv 7 rpos iavrovs ivavaKVKXrjoeis. See below, p. 135. The
phrase has been understood as ‘ the returning of the circles upon themselves * ;
but a model would not be needed to show that a circle returns upon itself,
cavrotfe is a frequent substitute for aXXyXovs, a word which Plato might well
avoid, since he has to use it three times in the same sentence. It is unfor-
tunate that there is a lacuna in the sentence where Pr. (in remp. ii, 226**)
commented on the inavaKVKX-qais in the Myth of Er.

36b-d

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

them ' wanderers ' (planets). * The truth is precisely the opposite :
each is always travelling in a circle one and the same path, not
many paths, though it appears to move along several paths '
(822 a). This statement does not contradict our passage. The
proper motion of each planet is confined to one of the seven circles ;
it never strays from this orbit into another path. ‘ It is natural
and necessary/ writes Theon,1 * that every heavenly body should,
like the fixed stars, move uniformly and regularly with one simple
proper movement. This will be evident if we imagine the universe
to be at rest and the planets moving along the Zodiac (which will
ex hypothesi be at rest). Their movement will then appear no
longer variable and irregular, but regular, as we have shown by
the construction of Plato's Sphere (acpaigonouag)/ He goes on
to explain that the appearance of variable movement is due to
the planets' proper movements being twisted into spirals by com-
bination with the movement of the Same in another plane, as the
Timaeus explains later (39A).2 As Boeckh pointed out, the unity
of the planets' movements in single circles is not supposed in the
Laws, any more than in the Timaeus, to be upset by the fact that
the movement of the Same turns them into spirals. Thus, just
after the mention of the spiral twist at 39A, Plato speaks of the
Moon as describing ‘ its own circle ' in a month, and of the Sun
as describing ‘ its own circle ' in a year.3 All that the Athenian
asserts is that the planets do not stray about from path to path,
but keep to one circular track. This is true of their proper move-
ment. The expression to ‘ move on several paths ' (n oXXac odovg
qpdgeoOai, Laws 822A) must not be confused with ‘ having a move-
ment compounded of more than one motion ' [nXetovt; (pog ag
(pigeodai, Aristotle).4 On Newtonian principles a planet has a

1 p. 244, following Adrastus. The notion is now current that Plato revolu-
tionised his astronomy in his old age, and that this revolution is implied by
certain statements in the Laws and Epinotnis. I shall criticise this theory
later (122 ff.) ; but I would remark here that the lucid and detailed accounts
of Plato’s astronomy which Theon took from Adrastus and Dercylides
betray no sign that they recognised any contradiction between the Timaeus
and the later works.

2 Cf. Pr. iii, 1228, * Each planet has one simple motion, though the com-
bination of more than one revolution — the proper revolution of each one and
the revolution shared with the fixed stars — complicates their movement.’

3 Heath, Aristarchus, p. 183.

4 This confusion invalidates Tr.'s argument (Class. Rev. xlix, 54) contro-
verting Shorey’s remark (on Rep. 530B) that the Rep. is consistent on this
point with the Timaeus and the Laws. Tr. says : * the phrase ttoXXcls oSods
(or <f>opas) </>4p€o9a i does not mean to “ move irregularly, now this way, now that,
but something very different, “ to move with several motions at once ”, to
have a composite movement ’. This is not a possible rendering of

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

composite movement, the resultant of two forces acting in different
directions, but it keeps to a single elliptical track. Even if we
take into account the twisting of the proper circular movement
into a spiral by the other component motion, the planet will still
be travelling on a single regular track or path. If a man ascends
a spiral staircase, he is not straying from one path to another.
His position at any moment can be calculated as exactly as* if he
were moving in a circle or a straight line. The Epinomis (982c)
gives as a proof of intelligence in the heavenly bodies the regularity
of their behaviour ; they do not change their places or wander
with shifting revolutions. All these statements are directed against
the notion popularly entertained by people who knew no astronomy
that the term ' planet ’ implied irregular and incalculable ' wander-
ings ' from one track to another.

Another passage in the Epinomis 1 has been alleged to contradict
the Timaeus. After mentioning the seven planets, the author
speaks of ‘ one (divinity), the eighth, which might specially be called
the Cosmos on high, who moves in the opposite sense to all those,
carrying the others with it — so, at least, it may seem to men who
know little of these things. But that of which we are sufficiently
well assured we are bound to state and do state ; for to one who
has even a small share of right and divine understanding, this
appears to be the teaching of true wisdom \ Heath has offered
a natural interpretation of this passage. * It occurs to me/ he
wrote, * that the emphasis is on the word “ men ” (avOgcbnoig with-
out the article), and that the meaning is “so far as mere human

1 987B, era 8e tov oySoov ypr) X eyeiv, ov fiaXicrra tls av <tov av>a> (avco libri : av
Burnet. I propose tov avco Koofiov, to distinguish Kocrfios applied to the fixed
stars from k6o(jlos as used of the whole universe) koo/xov 7 rpooayopevoi, os ivavrios
€K€ivois crufxvaoiv Tropeoerat, a ycov rovs aXXovs, co? yc avdpconois <j>aivoiT av o\lya tovtcov
elSooLv. oaa 8e ixavajs lo/iev, ktX. Burnet’s insertion of ovk before aycov
rovs aXXovs has no authority. Tr. (p. 232) also understands that the outer-
most circle does not really carry the others round with it. He deduces that
* the real motion of the eighth circle, which is still retained in the Epinomis,
can no longer have anything to do with day and night \ But the Epinomis
in the context (986B) refers back to an earlier passage mentioning Sun, Moon,
and Fixed Stars. There (978D-979A) the Sun is connected with the year,
the moon with the months, and the Fixed Stars with night and day : ‘ When
''•nos ceases not turning these bodies about for many nights and days, he
nevqr ceases teaching men the lesson of one and two, till even the dullest
learns to count well enough. For every one of us who sees the heavenly
bodies will go on to form the idea of three and four and higher numbers/
Day and Night — one and two — is the simplest lesson in number, and so is
mentioned first ; then the month ; tlysn the year. The lesson is taught by the
revolution of the stars in the Epinomis, exactly as it is in the Timaeus 39c
and 47A. Cf . also Laws 81 8 where counting one and two is similarly connected
with counting day and night.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL 36b-d

beings can judge, who can have little knowledge of these things ”.
The words immediately following are then readily intelligible : they
would mean “ but if we are reasonably satisfied of a thing we must
have the courage to state our view 'V 1 The view of which the
writer is sufficiently well assured to state it as the teaching of true
wisdom is that the circle of the fixed stars does carry the others
with it — so long as we refrain from inserting the word ' not * in
order to make the Epinomis agree with a mistaken interpretation
of Laws 821. The Epinomis, if it be Plato's at all, must anyhow
be his latest work ; and he may have wished to hint that, though
he still felt sufficiently well assured of the doctrine stated positively
in the Timaeus, other explanations of the * appearance ' might be
possible. That human beings could know little about the heavenly
bodies remained a commonplace long after Galileo had made his
telescope. Our knowledge of anything more than their distances
and movements dates from the invention of the spectroscope. In
any case, whatever the Epinomis passage means, it cannot afford
proof that Plato did not himself hold the view stated in the Timaeus
when he wrote that dialogue, perhaps fifteen years earlier. He
might have changed his opinion in the meantime.1 2

The conclusion is that the Laws (certainly) and the Epinomis
(quite possibly and, I should say, probably) are perfectly consistent
with the theory of the Timaeus , which ascribes a compound motion
to the seven planets. The conception is fundamental in the system
of Eudoxus, who was working at the Academy before the Timaeus
was written and who died before Plato. It is equally fundamental
in Aristotle's adaptation of Eudoxus’ system of spheres. The
system must have been known to Plato, and the probability is
that he incorporated in the Timaeus as much of it as he could
accept, consistently with his belief that the proper motion of each
planet keeps to a circular track. It should not be forgotten that

1 Aristarchus, 185. (In Gk. Astron., pp. xliii, 61, Heath has adopted a
different view.) The above rendering gives its due force to ye and an accept-
able meaning to avOpwirois. If this word referred to any individuals it would
be slightly insulting. I cannot believe that Plato would have alluded either
to his late coUeague Eudoxus or (as Tr. suggests, p. 170) to ' Aristotle and
his friends ' as * fellows who know little of these things \ or that such an
expression could be characterised as * urbane irony \ Since Plato had
himself made the (alleged) mistake in the Timaeus, he might feel that even
urbane irony was out of place.

2 Yet Tr. writes (p. 169) : * If we turn to the Laws and Epinomis we further
get absolute proof that Plato himself did not hold the theory (of double
motion of the planets) in the form in which it is given in the Republic and
Timaeus On p. 171 this ' absolute proof * has become a * more natural
inference ’ than the possibility that Plato had changed his view. But, as
we have seen, there is no real evidence even for a change of view.

CIRCLES IN THE WORLD-SOUL

the Timaeus is a myth of creation, not a treatise on astronomy.
The surprising thing is that Plato should have found room for so
many details in his broad picture of rational design in the cosmos,
not that he should have simplified by omitting subtleties which
would contribute nothing to his main purpose and which might be
superseded at any time, as indeed they were very soon afterwards.

36d-e. The world* s body fitted to its soul

The structure of the World's Soul is now complete. Plato has
described its composition out of the three intermediate kinds of
Existence, Sameness, and Difference ; its division according to the
intervals of the cosmic harmony ; and its rational motions, repre-
sented by the two main circles. Nothing has yet been said about
the bodies which display these motions and the additional motions
of the seven circles. The intention is to emphasise the superior
dignity of soul and the truth that the self-moving soul is the source
of all physical motions. The next step is to fit the World's body,
previously described, into the frame of the soul. This means
imparting to the body the motions symbolised by the soul circles.

36D. When the whole fabric of the soul had been finished to its
maker's mind, he next began to fashion within the soul all

e. that is bodily, and brought the two together, fitting them
centre to centre. And the soul, being everywhere inwoven
from the centre to the outermost heaven and enveloping the
heaven all round on the outside,1 revolving within its own
limit, made a divine beginning of ceaseless and intelligent
life for all time.

The above sentences reiterate the emphasis already laid at 34B
on the fact that the soul extends throughout the body of the world
from centre to circumference, and communicates its motion to the
whole. That is to say, the motions above described are not con-
fined to the stars and planets. The motion of the Same, which is
supreme over the seven planetary motions, must affect the entire
body of the world, including the Earth at its centre. But we are
here concerned not so much with physical movements as with the

1 See note on 34B. Adam compares our passage to Rep. 61 6c, where the
light passes through the centre of the universe and round the outer surface
of the heavenly sphere, acting as a bond that holds together all the revolving
firmament, like the undergirders of a man-of-war. If Chalcidius was right
in his interpretation of 36c (p. 77) as referring to the revolution of a meridian
circle tracing the circumference of the sphere, this passage may well refer to
that enveloping movement of the Same. Compare the language of 34B,
where the wrapping of the soul round the body on the outside is immediately
followed by mention of the rotation.

p.c. 93

DISCOURSE IN THE WORLD-SOUL 36e-37c

motions of the World-Soul as an intelligent being. Hence in the
next paragraph * the circle of the Different 1 is once more spoken
of as representing a single undivided motion.

36E-37C. Discourse in the World-Soul

The cognitive activity of the soul's ceaseless and intelligent life
is based on the principle that like knows like. As Proclus says,
‘ Since the soul consists of three parts, Existence, Sameness, and
Difference, in a form intermediate between the indivisible things
and the divisible, by means of these she knows both orders of
things ; ... for all knowing is accomplished by means of likeness
between the knower and the known.' 1

36E. Now the body of the heaven has been created visible ; but
she is invisible, and, as a soul having part in reason and
37. harmony, is the best of things brought into being by the
most excellent of things intelligible and eternal.2 Seeing,
then, that soul had been blended of Sameness, Difference,
and Existence, these three portions, and had been in due
proportion divided and bound together,3 and moreover
revolves upon herself, whenever she is in contact with any-
thing that has dispersed existence or with anything whose
existence is indivisible, she is set in motion all through herself

B. and tells in what respect precisely, and how, and in what
sense, and when, it comes about that something is qualified as
either the same or different with respect to any given thing,
whatever it may be, with which it is the same or from which
it differs, either in the sphere of things that become or with
regard to things that are always changeless.4

1 Pr. ii, 298. Cf. ii, 13521 ff.

2 Plutarch 1016c (rightly) took rwv votjtcjv del r ovtcov as depending on tov
dpCtrrov . Pr. ii, 294, mentions this as a possible construction, though he
suggests, as perhaps preferable, the meaning that soul is the best among
those intelligible and everlasting things which are generated, or taking tcov
vot)t<j)v atl r* ovrcoy with Xoyiofiov Kal apfiovias (cf. Robin, Physique de PI. 56).
That avrri means the soul (not ‘ the heaven itself ", Tr.) is plain from 46D, 6.
A.-H., Wilamowitz (. Platon ii, 389), and others are (I think, rightly) inclined
to omit ifwxr), though it was read by Plutarch (loc. cit.).

3 Proportion acts as a bond, 31c.

4 The construction is doubtful. (1) It can be taken (in accordance with
the above translation) as follows : * The soul tells — (oto» t av n ravrdv ff Kal
otov av €T€pov) whatever it may be (say B) that something (A) is the same as
or different from — in what respect precisely and how and in what sense and
when it comes about (l*acrra ehac Kal irdaxuv) that it (A) is, or is qualified by,
each of these terms (same and different) ( npds €*aorov) in respect of any such
thing (£), either in the sphere/ etc. Grammatically, cKaorov (b, 2) is the
antecedent of ortp (a, 7), and the rtof theory clause is the subject of iKaara

DISCOURSE IN THE WORLD-SOUL

37B. Now whenever discourse that is alike 1 true, whether it
takes place concerning that which is different or that which
is the same, being carried on without speech or sound within
the thing that is self-moved,2 is about that which is sensible,
and the circle of the Different, moving aright, carries its
message throughout all its soul — then there arise judgments
and beliefs that are sure and true. But whenever discourse
c. is concerned with the rational,3 and the circle of the Same,
running smoothly, declares it, the result must be rational
understanding and knowledge. And if anyone calls that in

ctvai Kcd vdayeiv, which I understand (cf. Taylor) as meaning ' is each of
these things (same or different) or in other words is qualified by them \
Pr. ii, 304 19, notes that Plato often uses TTcnovOtvai for as at

Soph. 245B nados eyov r°v and neTrovdos ev clvaC ttcos, mean 1 having the
attribute or property of unity

(2) The words oto> t av . . . erepov might be taken as an interrogative
clause depending on A cyci. A parallel occurs at Soph. 262K, orov 8* av 6 Xdyos
tJ, av poi (j>pa^€iv. A grammarian might contend that the full meaning there
is : ‘ Whatever the statement may be about, you are to tell me (what it is
about).' So here : ‘ the soul tells with what thing (whatever it may be)
something (™) is the same \

The difficult phrase vpds hcaarov eKaara rivat ical ndaxav seems to allude
to the ambiguities of the word ‘ is \ explained in the Sophist. * Is’ can
mean * exists ’ (partakes of Existence) or ‘ is the same as * (which involves
partaking of Sameness or having that property, ndayeiv , as ‘ is not ’ involves
having the property of Difference). So we can say either that one thing is
{rival) the same as, or different from, another, or that it has either of the
properties hrdax^i €Kaara) with respect to any other (vpos eKaarov).

1 Kara ravrov ‘equally’ (A.-H.), for 6 polios, which would involve hiatus.
The discourse is to be true in either case, whether the judgments are affirmative
or negative Cf. Kara ravrd, 38D, 5.

2 The self-moved thing is the Heaven as a whole, which, as a living creature,
is self-moved by its own self-moving soul. That an animal (soul and body)
is self-moved is a commonplace. Ar., Phys. 265 b, 34, ‘ Witness to this truth
(that locomotion is prior to other motions) is borne by those who make soul
the cause of motion, for they say that what moves itself is the source of motion
and the animal or anything that has a soul does move itself locally \ This
explains avrov rrjv t/tvxyv below (b, 7) ; and the world (tavqBkv kq! £d>v) is again
referred to as avrd at c, 6. The passive (Kivovfievov v<p* avrov ) is more appro-
priate to the animal which is moved by its soul than to the soul which moves
itself (to cavro kivovv) . Commenting on the statement (34 a) that the Demiurge
gave the world ‘ the motion proper to its body ’, Pr. (ii, 92 3 x) says that it
refers to the peculiar constitution of the cosmos, in virtue of which it is so
moved by itself (ixjf cavrov), eyei yap n koi avros koX Kara rrjv Jo >rjv avroKivrjTov
Kai Kara to atopa o<f>aipoei8£s ov npos ttjv kvkXo> Kivqoiv oikciov (where avr okivt\tov
and oikciov are both epithets of rt, and the insertion of r^v after £a>rfv is un-
necessary) .

8 Pr. ii, 312 12, observes that XoyiariKov here means not, as one might
suppose, the subject which reflects, but the object of thought (avro to voijtov),
as aiadrjriKov is used later (61 D, 65A, etc.) for aladrjrdv. Cf. also kivtjtik6v for
(cvkLvtjtov at 58D.

DISCOURSE IN THE WORLD-SOUL 36e-37c

37c. which this pair 1 come to exist by any name but * soul ’, his
words will be anything rather than the truth.

Like the earlier description (35A) of the composition of soul out
of the three intermediate kinds of Existence, Sameness, and Differ-
ence, this compressed account of the discourse carried on in the
World-Soul can only be understood by reference to the Sophist .2
There all philosophic discourse is regarded as consisting of affirma-
tive and negative statements about Forms. Discourse is guided
by the science of Dialectic, whose task is 4 to divide according to
Kinds, not taking the same Form for a different one or a different
one for the same ’ (253D). The dialectician discerns the true
structure of the realm of Forms, what each Form is in itself and
how it differs from others — what it is and what it is not. A false
judgment is described as mistaking one Form for another. Similar
language is used below (44A) : in infancy the motions of the soul-
circles in human beings are perturbed and distorted by the inflow
of nourishment and of sense-impressions, and 4 when they meet
with something outside that falls under the Same or the Different
they speak of it as 44 the same as this ” or 44 different from that ”
contrary to the true facts, and show themselves mistaken and
foolish \ When the tide of growth and nutriment flows in less
strongly, the revolutions settle down into their natural course, 4 and
giving their right names to what is different and what is the same,
they set their possessor in the way to become rational \ So in our
passage, the true judgment correctly identifies its object (whether
a Form or an individual thing which becomes) with whatever it is
the same as, or distinguishes it from whatever it is different from.

Dialectic is concerned solely with Forms, but here the discourse
of the World-Soul is directed both to the indivisible being of Forms
and to the existence that is 4 dispersed ’ in the perceptible things
of time and space. The same is, of course, true of human souls,
from which, in fact, the analogy is extended to the Soul of the World.
We have been told that the World’s body has no sense-organs,
because there is nothing outside it to be perceived. But the
World’s Soul is not pure intelligence ; being united with a per-
ceptible body, it may be imagined as having internal feelings,
which would be covered by the word aesthesis .3 The World’s Soul
differs from ours in that its revolutions can never be disordered

1 1 incline to think (with A.-H./ that ‘ this pair * means rational under-
standing and knowledge, because Plato thinks it worth while repeatedly to
assert that rods can exist only in soul (30B, 46D, Soph. 249A, Philebus, 30c),
though the same is true of judgments and beliefs.

2 252B ff. See F. M. Cornford, Plato’s Theory of Knowledge, pp. 260 ff.

8 Cf. for instance Theaet. 156B and the list of feelings at 42 a below.

TIME

(47c). Hence Plato speaks of its discourse as always true, although
it contains, besides rational understanding and knowledge, judg-
ments and beliefs associated with the revolution of the Different
— a revolution which is controlled by the superior motion of the
Same, but moves in another plane.

Aristotle, after mentioning how Empedocles recognised the
principle that like is known by like, continues : # In the same way
Plato in the Timaeus fashions the soul out of his elements ; for
like, he holds, is known by like, and things are formed out of the
principles or elements, so that soul must be so too. Similarly also
in his lectures “ On Philosophy ” it was set forth that the Animal
itself is compounded of the Idea itself of the One together with the
primary length, breadth, and depth, everything else, the objects
of its perception, being similarly constituted. Again he puts the
view in yet other terms : Mind is the monad, science or knowledge
the dyad (because it goes undeviatingly from one point to another),
opinion the number of the plane, sensation the number of the solid ;
the numbers are by him expressly identified with the Forms them-
selves or principles, and are formed out of the elements ; 1 now
things are apprehended either by mind or science or opinion or
sensation, and these same numbers are the Forms of things * (de
anim. 404&, 16 ff., trans. J. A. Smith).

37C-38C. Time , the moving likeness of Eternity

We turn now from the spiritual motions of the World-Soul — its
thoughts and judgments — to the physical motions of perceptible
bodies in the Heaven. Planets, stars, and Earth have yet to be
created and set in the revolutions symbolised earlier by the eight
circles of the celestial mechanism. This work is prefaced by a
description of Time, which cannot exist apart from the heavenly
clock whose movements are the measure of Time.

37c. When the father who had begotten it 2 saw it set in motion
and alive, a shrine brought into being for the everlasting
gods, he rejoiced and being well pleased he took thought
to make it yet more like its pattern. So as that pattern

D. is the Living Being that is for ever existent, he sought to make
this universe also like it, so far as might be, in that respect.
Now the nature of that Living Being was eternal, and this
character it was impossible to confer in full completeness

1 Not, of course, fire, air, water, earth, but Unity and the Indeterminate
Dyad (or Plurality).

2 avro refers, like avrov at b, 7, to to Kivovficvov avrov, the world as a
living and self-moved creature (tavrjdcv /cal (cov).

TIME

37c-38c

37D. on the generated thing. But he took thought to make, as
it were, a moving likeness of eternity ; and, at the same time
that he ordered the Heaven, he made, of eternity that abides
in unity, an everlasting likeness moving according to number 1
— that to which we have given the name Time.

E. For there were no days and nights, months and years,
before the Heaven came into being ; but he planned that
they should now come to be at the same time that the Heaven
was framed. All these are parts of Time, and ' was ' and
1 shall be ’ are forms of time that have come to be ; we are
wrong to transfer them unthinkingly to eternal being. We
say that it was and is and shall be ; but * is ' alone really
38. belongs to it and describes it truly ; 1 was * and ‘ shall be '
are properly used of becoming which proceeds in time, for
they are motions. But that which is for ever in the same
state immovably cannot be becoming older or younger by
lapse of time,2 nor can it ever become so ; neither can it
now have been, nor will it be in the future ; and in general
nothing belongs to it of all that Becoming attaches to the
moving things of sense ; but these have come into being as
forms of time, which images eternity and revolves according
to number. And besides we make statements like these : 3

B. that what is past is past, what happens now is happening
now, and again that what will happen is what will happen,
and that the non-existent is non-existent : no one of these
expressions is exact. But this, perhaps, may not be the
right moment for a precise discussion of these matters.4

1 tievovros aiaivos cv evl nar afndfiov lovaav alwviov eiKova. Even here, where
he is contrasting eternal duration (at wv) with everlastingness in time, Plato
will not reserve alwvtos for ‘ eternal * and dtBios for ‘ everlasting dtSto?
is applied both to the model and to the everlasting gods. But in this particular
phrase it is certainly strange that the moving likeness contrasted with abiding
duration should be called alwvtov. It is tempting to conjecture divaov eixova,
4 ever-flowing likeness *, and to compare Laws 966E where the motion of soul
gives to Becoming an ever-flowing existence (aivaov ovoiav), and Critias,
Peirithous, frag. 1 8, anapas re xpdvos rrepi t devato pevjxaTt irX’qpijs <f>otr<j. . . .

2 Read 8td *poW (F. Eus. Stob. Pr. (lemma) : Bta xpovov, cett.) ovte, to
avoid an intolerable hiatus. See note on 20 a.

3 rd Totdhe, remotely governed by XiyopLtv (37E, 5).

4 The objection is to using the word ‘ is ' in statements about things that
become or happen in time or are non-existent. ' Being in contrast here
with Becoming, ought strictly to be reserved for the real unchanging Being
of eternal things. Its application to Becoming is at least ambiguous, not
* exact '. The last sentence hints that a discussion of the ambiguity of * is '
will be found in the Sophist. 4 The non-existent * means (as in ordinary
speech) the absolutely non-existent, of which, as the Sophist shows, nothing
whatever can be truly asserted.

TIME

38B. Be that as it may, Time came into being together with the
Heaven, in order that, as they were brought into being
together, so they may be dissolved together, if ever their
dissolution should come to pass ; and it is made after the
pattern of the ever-enduring nature, in order that it may

c. be as like that pattern as possible ; for the pattern is a thing
that has being for all eternity, whereas the Heaven 1 has been
and is and shall be perpetually throughout all time.

In the first sentence above, * a shrine brought into being for the
everlasting gods * is a paraphrase of rcov acdtojv decbv yeyovdg SyaXfia
which calls for some justification. The words are usually trans-
lated ‘ a created image of the everlasting gods \ and this expression
has troubled commentators, who have assumed that the word
agalma (image) is simply equivalent to eikon (likeness), and that
consequently the everlasting gods must be the Forms after whose
pattern the world is made, or else (in spite of the plural) the Demi-
urge himself. But the Demiurge is nowhere in the Timaeus identi-
fied with his model,2 and the Forms are nowhere spoken of as gods.

The word agalma , however, contains no implication of likeness
and is not a synonym of eikon. It is true that Oecbv aya^/uara is
the common phrase for ‘ images of the gods \ cult-statues ; but
the word itself has two main meanings : (1) object of worship, and
(2) something in which one takes delight.3 ‘ Image * to our ears
suggests a likeness ; ‘ statue ’, a solid and uninteresting effigy in
a park. We do not think of a statue as enshrining the spirit of a
departed general or politician. It is never an object of worship
and seldom a cause of delight. The different associations of agalma
may be illustrated from other passages in Plato. In the Phaedrus
(252D) the lover chooses his love (egcog) according to his disposition
and ‘ as though that love were a god in his eyes, he fashions and
adorns him like an object of worship ( olov ayakjua), as with the
intent to celebrate rites in his honour \ Here the beloved person
is worshipped as an incarnation or embodiment of the god answering

1 6 8e, sc. ovpavos (Pr. iii, 5029). The existence of the world is spread out
all through past, present, and future time. Cf. 31B, ovpavos yeyovcbs Zonv t€
/cal It* carat. Comparison with 37c, 8, and 39E, 1, suggests that ovpavos is
already the subject of lv * t os d/Ltoidraros avrty Kara hvvapuv

2 At 92c, 7, etKwv rov vorjrov (sc. £wou) should be read, not ttoititoO .

8 As object of worship dyaXfia is o ns aya AAet (worships) ; in the other sense
it is to tls dydXXerat, a phrase by which ayaXfxa is frequently glossed. The
second appears to be the earlier sense in literature. It is recognised by
Proclus with reference to our passage : /cal yap ntos to ayaXpia irapa to dydXXeadat,
rov dcov «V aura) AeAc/crai (iii, 624), and perhaps hinted at by the words
’qydadrj and cvtf>pavd€LS in the text.

TIME

37c-38c

to his temperament. At Laws 931A eikon and agalma are used
side by side : ' Some of the gods whom we honour (the stars) are
clearly visible ; as likenesses {six drag) of others we consecrate
agalmata , and when we worship these, lifeless as they are, we believe
that the living gods beyond are gratified and filled with good will
towards us/ 1 ‘ So if a man has parent or grandparent worn out

with age laid up as a treasure in his house, let no man think that,
so long as he has such a consecrated object set up at his hearth
{iyiotiov tdgvfia), he could have any more efficacious object of
worship {SyaXfjLa), if he shall give it due tendance in the true sense
... In the eyes of the gods we can possess no more precious
object of worship than such a parent. Heaven is well pleased when
a man worships his progenitors with honours (aydXXrj Tijuaig).
The consecrated object which is an ancestor (to ngoyovcov Idgvfia ,
" shrine ”, Bury) is a marvellous thing, far superior to lifeless ones ;
for the living ones can join in our prayers when duly tended, or
pray against us when neglected. Thus in such parents a man
possesses objects of worship most efficacious in securing divine
favour/ In this passage the worshipped parent is the agalma ;
' image ’ or ' statue ' is an inadequate rendering. To the ancient
a cult-statue was a thing he worshipped and took delight in because
the visible image betokened the presence of the divinity in the
shrine. It was set up there in order that the god might come and
dwell in it. So the Greek for ‘ to set up a statue of Hermes ' is
simply Idqvscrdai 'Eqpirjv. The same word {Idqvaaro) is used of the
Demiurge setting the planets in the framework of his Sphere (38D).
Richard Wilhelm has observed that in Chinese temples the images
and pictures of the gods are ordinarily treated with no respect.

* These pictures are not gods at all. They are merely places which
they enter if they are called upon in the right way. When the
god is there, then the presence in his image is a stern and holy
matter. When he is not there, then his image is a piece of wood
or clay/ 2 Julian, dwelling on the benefits conferred on the whole
world by those visible gods, the heavenly bodies, calls the Sun

* the living agalma , endowed with soul and intelligence and bene-
ficent, of the intelligible father (?) ’.3 The Sun is not a statue or
a likeness, but a living embodiment.

Proclus is fully alive to this mode of thought. Plato, he says

1 ra>v 8* eiKOvas aydXjxara ISpvadficvoi , o vs rjp.lv aydXXovai teairrep aifivyovs ovras
itecivovs rjyovfieda rods ipjftvxovs Beovs rroXXrjv 8ia ravr evvoiav teal \dpiv
Here the masculine ovs treats the dyaXpa as a god whose life is not in itself
but in the living god it portrays.

% The Soul of China , p. 314.

8 Ep. 51, 434, to [div ayaXfia teal €fJu/wxov teal ewow teal ayaBoepyov rod vorjTOv
narpds (navrds Osann. The text appears to have a laciyia after this word.)

IOO

TIME

(iii, 418), speaks of the cosmos as an agalma of the everlasting gods
because it is filled with the divinity of the intelligible gods, although
it does not receive those gods themselves into itself any more than
cult images (aya^juara) receive the transcendent essences of the gods.
The gods in the cosmos (the heavenly bodies) are, as it were, channels
conveying a radiance emanating from the intelligible gods. Proclus
calls the Demiurge the dyaXpLaronoidg rov xoojaov (iii, 610), who makes
the cosmos as an agalma and sets up within it the agalmata of the
individual gods (iii, 691 2).1 Some of the agalmata consecrated by
religion are for all to see ; others are hidden within as symbols
of the presence of the gods and known only to the initiating priest.
In the same way the cosmos is an agalma of the intelligible, con-
taining both visible tokens of its Father’s divinity and unseen
pledges of its participation in reality (i, 273 10). In two places
Proclus substitutes the word ' shrine ' (Ibq6v) : ‘ the cosmos is the
holiest of shrines ’ (i, 12417) ; the planetary bodies are set up in it
‘ as shrines of the gods who together accomplish the perfect year ’
(ii, 527, referring to 38D).2

In our sentence the Demiurge contemplates the cosmos with its
body and soul so far as they have yet been organised. The body
appears as the celestial Sphere with its turning rings ; animated by
soul, whose motions those rings symbolise, it is a living and moving
agalma , like those statues made by Daedalus which Plato mentions
more than once.3 But the everlasting divinities have still to take
their places in this vacant shrine. These are the ‘ heavenly gods ’
{ovQavioi 6so(, 39E), the stars, the planets, and Earth, all of which
are presently to be described as ' living creatures everlasting and
divine ’.4 That the ‘ everlasting gods ’ of our passage are the
heavenly bodies is plain from the Epinomis 983E, where these are
described as divine living beings, which we must either celebrate as

1 This recalls Alcibiades’ comparison of Socrates to an image of Silenus
which, when opened, is found to contain golden ayaXpara of the gods (Symp.
216D, e).

2 When Aeschylus ( Eum . 920) describes Athens as <f>povpiov Oecov, pvolfiaifiov
'EXXavcov aya\p,a SaifiovcDv, is not ' shrine ' nearer to the true sense than ' bright
ornament * (Weir Smyth) or * precious jewel ' (Headlam) ? Athens is not a
statue or an image, but it is a place wherein the gods delight to dwell.

8 Euthyphro iib, 15B, Meno 97D. Curiously enough, Aristotle, just before
criticising this part of the Timaeus, mentions in the context, dealing with
Democritus, the wooden Aphrodite which Daedalus was said to have made to
move by pouring quicksilver into it.

4 £<Sa Bela xal ai'Sta (40B) includes the fixed stars and the planets ; and Earth
is ' the most venerable of the gods within the Heaven * (40c) . All these are
of the number of ra>v iv ovpavcp dca>v {Rep. 508). I cannot, therefore, agree
with Tr.’s statement that * all through the story there is only one God who
can be called “ everlasting ", the Creator himself * (p. 184).

101

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37c-38c

being actual gods, or consider as likenesses of gods, like agalmata
which the gods themselves have made. They are not the work
of worthless makers, but we must honour them above all other
agalmata ; for never will there be seen agalmata more lovely or more
truly a common possession of all mankind, or any set up (IdQvjudva)
in more excellent regions or of higher purity, majesty, and fulness
of life. Here the stars either are actual gods or agalmata made by
gods for their own habitation.1 In our passage, the cosmos with
its eight moving circles is thought of as an agalma which awaits
the presence of the divine beings who are to possess the motions
symbolised. The addition of the heavenly gods and (later) of the
three inferior kinds of living creatures is to complete the resemblance
of the copy to its model (92c).

First, however, it must be explained that all these living creatures,
even the heavenly gods themselves, are endowed with temporal life
that moves in time and lasts throughout all time, but is not the
eternal unchanging duration (alcov) proper to the model. The
concept of duration without change, as the attribute of real being,
was first formulated by Parmenides. Plato echoes his words about
the One Being : 4 It never was nor ever will be, since it is now all
at once ' (frag. 8, 5). The 4 indivisible ' being of Plato's intelligible
world demands a duration that 4 abides (rests) in unity \ Time
is essentially divided into the three 4 forms ’, past, present, future ;
and it 4 moves according to number ’, being measured by a plurality
of recurrent 4 parts ’, the periods called day, month, year. Nothing
that we can call Time can exist without these units of measurement ;
and these again cannot exist without the regular revolutions of the
heavenly bodies, the motions of the celestial clock. Time, accord-
ingly, is said to 4 come into being together with the Heaven ', in
the sense that neither can exist without the other.

Plato’s treatment of Time presents an important contrast to his
treatment of Space. We are apt to speak of Becoming as going on
4 in time and space ’, as if these two conditions were on the same
footing. Plato does not so regard them. Time is here included
among the creatures of the divine intelligence which orders the
world. It is a feature of that order, not a pre-existing framework.
Space, on the other hand, is introduced in the second part of the
dialogue, under the heading of 4 what happens of Necessity \ The
Receptacle of Becoming is there brought into account, as a third
factor (besides Being and Becoming) which has hitherto been
ignored (48E). This Receptacle, finally identified with Space (52 a),
is treated as a given frame, independent of the Demiurge and a

1 Cf. Simpl. Phys., 1337, 34, 7rpo<f>av€crraTov pAv Oeol KaXotivrai ra twv
ovpavtcov Betov rrcpnroXovrra ayaXpara.

102

TIME

necessary condition antecedent to all his operations. Time is not
a given frame ; it is ‘ produced ’ by the celestial revolutions (38E),
which are themselves the work of the Demiurge. It is true that the
existence of Space is implied throughout all this description of the
world's soul and body ; but its existence is due to Necessity,
not to Reason. Space is a condition without which Reason could
not produce the visible order. Time is a feature of that order,
inherent in its rational structure.

Plato's view of Time as inseparable from periodic motion is no
novelty, but a tradition running throughout the whole of Greek
thought, which always associated Time with circular movement.
Reviewing popular and philosophic conceptions of Time in connec-
tion with his own doctrine, Aristotle remarks that regular circular
locomotion, being most easily counted, provides the best unit of
measurement. ‘ Neither alteration nor increase nor coming into
being can be regular, but locomotion can be. This is why Time is
thought to be the movement of the sphere : 1 it is because the other
kinds of change are measured by locomotion and Time by this
(circular) movement. This also explains the common saying that
human affairs form a cycle, and that there is a cycle of all other
things that have a natural movement and come into being and pass
away. This is because all these things are discriminated by Time
and have their beginning and end as though in a sort of period ;
for even Time itself is thought of as a sort of circle. The reason,
again, is that Time is the measure of this kind of locomotion and is
itself measured by it ; so that to say that things which come into
being form a cycle is to say that there is a circle of Time, which
means that it is measured by the circular movement ' (Phys. iv,
223b, 13 ff.).

How came it that Time was conceived, not as a straight line, but
as a circle ? Time is more abstract, unsubstantial, phantom-like,
than Space. What fills Space is body that we can see and handle ;
what fills Time is movement, and above all the movement of life :
the very word alcov means both * time 9 and * life '. And, as Aristotle
says, there is a cycle of all things that have a natural movement
and come into being and pass away. The four elements of his
system have a natural movement in the dimensions of Space ; but
they endure for ever, and their motion is straight. But life, that
comes into being and passes away, moves in the cycle of Time, the

1 At the outset (218 b, 1) it has been mentioned that some (Plato, according
to Eudemus and Theophrastus) had identified Time with the movement of
the universe ; others (Pythagoreans, Diels, Vors. 45B, 33) actually with the
heavenly sphere itself, * because all things are in Time and also in the sphere \
Aristotle speaks of this second view as too archaic and naive for discussion.

103

TIME

37c-38c

wheel of becoming — birth, growth, maturity, decay, death, and
rebirth. These words at once suggest the origin of the circular
image of Time. It is borrowed from the revolving year — annus ,
anulus, the ring. Hermippus, in his comedy The Birth of Athena ,
thus describes the year, Eniautos :

* He is round to look at, and he revolves in a circle, containing
all things in himself ; and as he runs round the whole earth he
brings us men to birth. His name is Eniautos ; and being round
he has neither end nor beginning, and will never cease wheeling
his body round all day and every day ' (frag, i, Meineke).

The year, says Hermippus, * contains all things in himself * (iv
ai ref). There is an allusion to the derivation of Eniautos from iv
iavrqj, which we also find in Plato's Cratylus. Socrates there
explains the two words for * year ’ — eniautos and etos — as significant
when taken together : they express that which seeks within itself
(to ev eavrep iraCov ) and brings forth into the light all things, in
turn, that are born and come into being.1

In Empedocles' system the old seasonal ‘ powers ' of summer and
winter — the hot, the cold, the moist, the dry — are erected into
elements by identification with fire, air, water, and earth. These
four ‘ prevail in turn as the circle of Time comes round ',2 just as
earlier they had prevailed in turn as the seasons came round in the
circle of the year. Like Empedocles, Plato speaks here of Time
‘ revolving ' according to number.3 Proclus remarks on this that
Time revolves as the first among things that are moved ; by its
revolution all things are brought round in a circle. He says ex-
plicitly that the advance of Time is not like a single straight line
of unlimited extent in both directions, but limited and circum-
scribed.4 He understands Plato’s phrase ‘ throughout all time '
(36E) as meaning the Great Year, the ‘ single period of the whole ',
which embraces all the periods of the planets and contains all
Time, ‘ for this period has as its measure the entire extent and
evolution of Time, than which there can be no greater extent, save

1 Cf. Plut., def. orac. 12, 4 1 6a, ivLavros apxiv €'v aura) koX reXevrrfv o/jlov
ti iravraiv <hv <f>ipov<nv <L pat yrj Se <f>vci Trepiixcw. Lydus de mens ii, 4, iviavros
7 rapa to iv iavrtp Kivtlodat, avrov * kvkXos yap ioriv i<f> * iavrov etXovpevos. Ps.-
Hippoc. or. ipS. 16. Soph. Aj . 646, a-navS’ 6 paxpos KdvapL6pr]TOS xpovos <f>vei r ’

a$7)\a Kal <f>avevra fcptmrcrat.

2 Vors. 2 IB, 17, 29, iv 8e pipei Kpariovoi neptTrXopivoio xpovoio. The same
line recurs 26B, 1, with kvkXoio for xpovo 10.

8 38A, xpovov • • • Kar’ apiQpov KVKXovpivov.

* Pr. iii, 29, wpiopivT] re /cal nepiyeypappivrj.. Contrast Locke (Essay,
Bk. ii, ch. 15, § 11) : 1 duration is but as it were the length of one straight
line, extended in infinitum \ It is interesting that Locke (in ch. 14) requires
a long argument to dissociate Time from the celestial revolutions.

I04

THE PLANETS

by its recurring again and again ; for it is in that way that Time
is unlimited ' (ii, 289). ‘ The motion of Time joins the end to the

beginning, and this an infinite number of times ' (iii, 3081).

38C-39E. The Planets as instruments of Time

Before proceeding to the creation of all the everlasting heavenly
gods who are to be enshrined in the system of revolutions already
prepared, Plato takes first those among their number, namely the
Planets, whose special utility to mankind lies in their marking off
the periods of time and so teaching men to count and calculate.
He remarks later (47A) that the observation of these regular periods
led to the discovery of number, to all inquiry into nature, and to
philosophy itself.

38c. In virtue, then, of this plan and intent of the god for the
birth of Time, in order that Time might be brought into
being, Sun and Moon and five other stars — ‘ wanderers ’, as
they are called — were made to define and preserve the
numbers of Time. Having made a body for each of them,
the god set them in the circuits in which the revolution of
the Different was moving 1 — in seven circuits seven bodies :

D. the Moon in the circle nearest the Earth ; the Sun in the
second above the Earth ; the Morning Star (Venus) and the
one called sacred to Hermes (Mercury) in circles 2 revolving
so as, in point of speed, to run their race with the Sun, but
possessing the power contrary to his ; whereby the Sun and
the star of Hermes and the Morning Star alike overtake and
are overtaken by one another. As for the remainder,3 where

1 As Pr. (iii, 5929) remarks, the revolution ( Treplohos ) of the Different is still
spoken of as a single movement of the soul as a whole, going on in all the
seven circuits (7 repufropal) among which it is distributed. TTepi<f>opa means
primarily the circular motion, rather than the circular track ; cf. circuitus.

2 els [rov] ra^ct pev laohpopov rjXlw kvkXov lovras , Burnet. ‘ Venus and

Mercury are put into circles which have the same period as the sun, but not
into one and the same circle. The construction is els ( kvkXovs) lovras laoSpopov
rjXUp kvkXov, kvkXov being an accusative of the internal object after lavras'
(Tr.). A.-H. followed Stallbaum in accepting rovs, which appears as a

correction in Y and yields the same sense as the omission of rov. The reading
rov is as old as Albinus, Didasc . xiv, <f>u xj<f>6pov he teat rov iepov 'Eppov X eyopevov
aoripa els rov laorayr) pkv i)Xl(p kvkXov lovra (sic), rovrov he a<f>ecrra>ra. It is
possible that those who read rov understood Plato to have held Hera-
cleides’ theory that Venus and Mercury revolve as satellites round the Sun.
There would then be only one main circle for all three, the Sun's. But Plato
certainly did not hold this. See Heath, Aristarchus, pp. 255 £f.

8 The three outer planets, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn. 4 Enshrined ’ rather over-
translates Ihpvaaro , but the planets are gods and Ihpveadax Qeov means
‘ setting up (a statue of) a god ' for cult purposes.

105

THE PLANETS

38c-39e

38D. he enshrined them and for what reasons — if one should

E. explain all these, the account, though only by the way,
would be a heavier task than that for the sake of which it
was given. Perhaps these things may be duly set forth later
at our leisure.

The only difficulty here lies in the statement that Venus and Mercury
(or their circles) ‘ possess the power contrary to that of the Sun h1
As we have seen (p. 80), the Sun, Venus, and Mercury form a
group with ' similar speed ' (the same angular velocity), which run
their race or finish their course together (laodgo/uoi), in the sense
that all complete their journey through the signs of the Zodiac in
a solar year. In contrast with this group, the Moon moves in the
same direction as the Sun, but considerably faster. The three
outer planets had that ‘ apparent counter-revolution ' mentioned
in the Myth of Er, which we explained by the self-moving power
of their individual souls. Its result was that, relatively to the
circles of the other four, their circles were credited with an additional
contrary movement, slowing down the common motion of the
Different. The effect of this contrary power or tendency, as so
far considered, was that they passed through all angles of divergence
from the Sun, returning into conjunction with him only at intervals
longer than a solar year.

What are we now to make of the statement that Venus and
Mercury * possess the power contrary to that of the Sun ’ ? Evi-
dently not that their behaviour conforms in all respects to that of
the three outer planets. Venus and Mercury do not pass through
all angles of divergence. They keep, as Plato knew, always in the
neighbourhood of the Sun. We are told what phenomenon is
explained by this contrary tendency in the following words : ' where-
by the Sun, Mercury, and Venus alike overtake and are overtaken
by one another \ Venus and Mercury, though never far from the
Sun, sometimes get ahead of him and appear as morning stars,
sometimes drop behind, as evening stars.2 The three are like a
group of racers who reach the goal together (laodQojuot), but on
the way now one, now another, is in front.

The ancients were not agreed as to the nature of the contrary
power which accounts for this phenomenon, partly because some
were disposed to introduce the complication of epicycles, of which
there is no trace in Plato. But Theon, Proclus, and Chalcidius
all mention the view that, whereas the Sun keeps steadily on at

1 38D : rijv 82 evavrlav elXrjxoras avrw St jvafjuv * odev KaraXafxfidvovaLv re koX KaraXafJL-
fidvovrai Kara ravra vn* dXXjjXcov rjXios re /cat o rot; 'EpfJLoG /cal 'Ewcxfiopos.

2 Cf. Tim. Locr. 96E. Pr. iii, 66®.

I06

THE PLANETS

the same pace, the other two move sometimes faster, sometimes
slower.1 Since Plato nowhere says that each planet moves with a
uniform velocity, this view is consistent with the text. I see no
reason why it should not be accepted.2

Plato has not explained here why the motions of Venus and
Mercury have this additional complication, not shared by the Sun.
Some ancient interpreters accounted for the variations of speed
by the volition of the planets, as living creatures with souls having
the power of self-motion.8 This explanation may be supported

1 Pr. iii, 6626. Theon, p. 222, ‘ The Sun traverses the signs in a year of
about 365J days. Venus and Mercury with a movement that is not uniform
(avcDfiaXcos) , differing to a small extent in their times, but on the whole running
their race with the sun, being always seen in his neighbourhood. Hence
they overtake and are overtaken by him/ Chalc., p. 176, ‘ What he means
by these stars having a similar speed, Plato himself explains : they all com-
plete their course in a year, but so that, moving sometimes slower, sometimes
faster, they now overtake, now are overtaken by, the Sun ; p. 137, Lucifer
(Venus) et Stilbon (Mercury) imparibus quidem gresstbus, isdcm iamen paene
temporibus quibus sol cursus conficiunt, modo incitato uolatu comprehendentes
eum, modo pigro tractu demum ab eodem comprehensi.

2 On the question whether and in what sense the motions of the planets
are ‘ uniform ' (o/xaA?fc), the ancient commentators are confused. They do
not keep distinct (1) what Plato probably thought ; (2) various phenomena
which were only discovered later ; (3) later theories of planetary movement,
involving concentric spheres, epicycles, eccentrics, etc., which are foreign to
Plato's scheme. Tr. (p. 202) concludes : ' Timaeus does not tell us why the
two planets and the sun in turns gain on one another. No explanation could
be offered by a man who assumed all three to be revolving with uniform
velocities in the same sense and with the same period in concentric circular
orbits/ This seems to me a reason for concluding that Timaeus does not
make all these assumptions, which would render the phenomenon not merely
inexplicable but impossible.

3 Pr. iii, 64®, II71, 1472, Set rrjv ttoikiXlclv a vrty i^airrciv rr}s KLvrjoeaJS twv

ifivycov, Kara rrjv ckgIvcjv fiovXrjcnv ddrrov rj fipabvrepov Kivovp,evcov ru>v crco/xcmov, aAA
ou 81 aoffevciav, oirep ol rrroXXol vopLi^ovres, ktX. Id., in remp. ii, 2332 : accord-
ing to the Timaeus the planets have the following motions : (1) the motion
of the Different, a ‘ single simple motion ’ carrying the entire spheres (circles)
of all the planets from W. to E. ; (2) axial rotation of each planet (for every
divine body must have a circular movement) ; (3) composite movement of
the spiral twist ; (4) ‘ Some have also a forward and backward movement

according to their own will, without ever departing from the movement about their
proper centres / Chalc., p. 179 * He says (38E) that the heavenly bodies were
* bound with living bonds *, i.e. that the stars are animate and understand
the commands of the god, so that not only the planets . . . should possess
soul and life, but also the universe with all these should have soul and
participate in reason. At Epin. 986B the eight circles are actually called
‘ eight sister powers ’ (Svva/xec s), in which the heavenly bodies move,
either of their own motion or like riders in a chariot. The question where
the power resides is left open, as at Laws 899A. Cf. also Albinus, Didasc. xiv,
oyhorj 8e iracrtv 17 avoid ev 8vvapus nept^e^Xrjrai. iravrcs 8& ovroi (stars and planets)
voepa £a ia /cat deot,

10 7

THE PLANETS

38c-39e

by the statement in the Epinomis 1 that the revolutions of Venus
and Mercury are 1 in speed about equal to the Sun, and on the whole
neither swifter nor slower. It must needs be that, of these three,
the one which has a mind equal to the task leads the way \ The
last words indicate that the individual motions of these celestial
gods, as distinct from the two motions (of the Same and the Different)
to which they are all alike subject, are due to the volition of their
own rational souls. The Laws (898D) plainly asserts that, besides
the Soul which drives the whole heaven round, every one of the
heavenly bodies is moved by an individual divine soul. What
function can these individual souls have, if not to originate those
elements in the motions of stars and planets which are not attribut-
able to the two motions of the World-Soul ? 2 Laws 898E suggests
three possible ways in which the soul of a star might be related to
its body. (1) The soul may reside within the whole spherical body,
and move it as our souls move our bodies. (2) Or the soul may
provide itself with a body of its own, consisting of fire or air, which
envelopes the star’s body on the outside and moves it mechanically.3
(3) Or the soul may have no body at all and guide the star by
* some surpassingly wonderful powers (dvvajueig) which it possesses \
The ‘ contrary power ’ possessed by Venus and Mercury may be
one of these wonderful powers, residing in their individual souls.
The Sun leads the whole group because of his superior intelligence,
as the Epinomis says. The other two possess a power which some-
times counteracts his to some small extent, but on the whole they
follow his lead, as he keeps steadily on his course with the actual
motion of the Different.

On this view ‘ the power contrary to that of the Sun ’ (and to
the Different) is, as the words would naturally imply, the power
already mentioned in the original account of the planetary circles.
The three outer planets exhibited that power constantly, with the
result that they passed through all angles of divergence. Venus

1 986E, 8 €i (Burnet : del libri) tovtcov Tpia>v outcov tov vovv lkovov €\ovra ’qyeloBat.
(trans. Harward).

2 Pr. iii, 70, recognises the two revolutions of the World-Soul as a whole,
and seven souls of the planets. In his Platonist period Aristotle maintained
that the heavenly bodies (including the planets) were gods and that their
motion was voluntary, 17. <j>i\oo. fragg. 23, 24.

3 898E, 77 iroOev 2£a>0€v atopa avrfj iropLoapLcvrj irvpds 17 n vos aepos, o>s A oyos
cart tivcov, w0€i fMq. acu/xart aa>pa. I take this to mean that the star’s soul
might reside, not in the star's body as a whole, but in an envelope of fire or
perhaps of air, 4 somewhere on the outside ' (?) of the star's body. The
envelope would then be directly moved by its indwelling soul, and would
4 push ' the star's body along with it. This seems to be the meaning, even
if no0€v egwBev be taken with 7Topioap€vr) (which seems most natural) or with

co0ei.

108

THE PLANETS

and Mercury exhibit it only intermittently, sometimes dropping
behind the Sim, but then quickening their pace to overtake and
pass him. Hence their two circles were not reckoned among those
which have a motion in the opposite sense to the Sun and Moon.
The intermittent dropping behind of Venus and Mercury could
not be mentioned in that earlier passage, because it was concerned
only with circles representing motions, not with the bodies which
have now been created to occupy the circles and possess the motions.
Only the main, constant, motions could there be described.

But, it has been objected, if the contrary power here is the same
as that mentioned in the account of the soul circles, why is it ascribed
only to Venus and Mercury, not also to the three outer planets ?
The answer is that Plato does not deny it to them. In this passage
he mentions the planets in their order from the Earth outwards :
first the Moon, then the group of three, Sun, Venus, and Mercury.
Of these he notes that, though all three have the same (annual)
period, two possess the contrary power which explains why they
sometimes drop behind, sometimes get ahead. The remaining
three (Mars, Jupiter, Saturn) are dismissed in the last sentence,
with the remark that it would take too long to describe their in-
dividual motions in detail.1 It is not denied that they too possess
the contrary power which has been already assigned to them for
another purpose. The implication is rather that they do possess
it, since we are told that their motions are too complicated for
description here (cf. 40c), i.e. even more complicated than those of
Venus and Mercury. It must be emphasised once more that Plato
is not writing a treatise on astronomy, but a myth of creation.
The scale of the work demands that the astronomical passages
shall be extremely compressed, and we must never assume that
some feature which is not explicitly mentioned was unknown to
Plato.

In any case, these minor voluntary modifications of planetary
motion merely account for changes in the positions of the planets
relatively to one another and to the signs of the Zodiac. They do
not distort the track of the planet’s proper motion, which remains
circular. They only counteract, or accelerate, the motion common
to them all along their several tracks, as some of our seven passengers
on the moving staircase counteract or accelerate its motion by
walking in one or the other direction (p. 85).

The upshot, so far, is that the motion of all the planets except

1 In just the same way the Epinomis 990B describes the monthly period
of the Moon, next, the Sun, who brings the solstices, and ‘ with him we must
group the bodies that keep pace with him ' (Venus and Mercury), and then
dismisses ‘ the remaining paths ’ (ohovs) as the most difficult to understand.

p.c. 109 I

THE PLANETS

38c-39e

the Sun is the resultant of at least three components : the motions
of the Same and of the Different, which they all share and which
are due to the World-Soul as a whole, and individual motions due
to the intelligent volition of the planets’ own souls, which account
for the changes in their relative positions. The Moon alone con-
stantly accelerates the motion of the Different. The remaining
five all have the power contrary to the Sun’s. Mars, Jupiter, and
Saturn exercise it constantly, as we have seen ; Venus and Mercury
only intermittently.

There remains the question whether Plato was aware of the
phenomenon of retrogradation, as distinct from a mere lagging
behind without change of sense in the planet’s motion. Against
the background of the signs, all the five planets, Venus, Mercury,
Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, appear not merely to slow down their main
movement, but actually to stand still in their courses, move back-
wards a certain distance, and then forward again. Proclus 1 held
that Plato did recognise actual retrogradation, and there is
good reason to believe that this striking phenomenon had been
observed. It was provided for in the system of Eudoxus, which
must have been familiar to Plato. I suggest that this backward
movement, exhibited by all five planets, is here accounted for by
the * contrary power explicitly in the case of Venus and Mercury,
and implicitly (as I contend) in the case of the other three. Venus
and Mercury have the power periodically to reverse the motion
they share with the Sun, to come to a stand, and then catch up
with him and pass him, though their main annual movement has
the same sense and period as his. Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn are
always dropping behind the Sun with their constant counter-
revolution ; and they have also the power to modify this motion
in retrogradation, come to a stand, and then make good the lost
ground by speeding up on their normal course. All this might
well be thought too complicated to be explained here, without a
model of the celestial motions. The accompanying diagram 2 * may
help the reader to grasp the apparent motions of retrogradation
exhibited by Jupiter as seen from a central Earth. The lines
marked S1 and S4 are those on which the Sim and Jupiter come

1 Pr. iii, 68, * The Sun does not diminish or augment his speed and has no
stations, but Mercury and Venus have advances, stations, and retrogressions ;
hence you may say that, according to the observed facts, they possess con-
trary powers relatively to the Sun. . . . And since they sometimes move
quicker, sometimes slower, and do not aU move more quickly, or more slowly,
at the same time, naturally the more quickly moving overtake the others,
and then are overtaken in their turn.'

2 Adapted, with simplifications, from Bouch6-Leclercq, Vastrologie grecque

(1899), p. 120.

IIO

THE PLANETS

into conjunction, the Sun moving about twelve times as fast as
Jupiter. Between each conjunction and the next Jupiter appears

Retrogradation of Jupiter.

The Sun at S1 and Jupiter at / 1 are in conjunction. When the Sun has
moved about 120° to Sa Jupiter has moved about 220 to / 2 (the first station).
While the Sun is moving from S2 to S3 Jupiter appears to go back about io°
to /3 (second station). He then goes forward again and returns at J 4 to
conjunction with the Sun at 5 4

to stand still, move backwards, stand still again, and then move
forwards with accelerated speed. While moving backwards (from
7 2 to 73) Jupiter is exercising his contrary power with more than
his normal vigour. Mars and Saturn, having different speeds from
his, behave in this way at widely different intervals. All these
complications are obviously too intricate for description without
models or diagrams.

It may be added that Chalcidius, where he mentions the (correct)
view that some of the planetary circles have a movement contrary
to others, enumerates the three sets of phenomena which this
contrary movement is to account for.1 They are the three which
my explanation covers : (1) the contrast between the steady,
forward movement of Sun and Moon and the retrogradations of
the other five planets ; (2) the contrast between the evening
appearance of the Moon (as the fastest) and the morning risings of
Mars, Jupiter, Saturn (as the slowest) ; (3) the peculiar behaviour
of Venus and Mercury, appearing sometimes at dawn, sometimes
as evening stars. Chalcidius himself does not understand how these
phenomena are accounted for, being confused by epicycles and
eccentrics, which he invokes. But when we find the same sets of

1 Chalc., pp. 167-8.

Ill

THE PLANETS

38c-39e

phenomena in Theon's explanation, it looks as if both were repro-
ducing a tradition which had come down from someone who did
understand what Plato meant.

38E. To resume : when each one of the beings that were to join
in producing Time had come into the motion suitable to it,
and, as bodies bound together with living bonds, they had
become living creatures and learnt their appointed task,1
then they began to revolve by way of the motion of the
Different, which was aslant, crossing the movement of the
39. Same and subject to it 2 : some moving in greater circles,
some in lesser ; those in the lesser circles moving faster,
those in the greater more slowly.

So, by reason of the movement of the Same, those which
revolve most quickly appeared to be overtaken by the slower,
though really overtaking them. For the movement of the
Same, which gives all their circles a spiral twist because they
have two distinct 3 forward motions in opposite senses, made

B. the body which departs most slowly from itself — the swiftest
of all movements — appear as keeping pace with it most
closely.

This paragraph explains two consequences of the theory that the
two main factors in the motions of any planet are the motion of
the Same (affecting the whole universe) and the proper motion of
the planet itself in the opposite sense. This proper motion was
represented by one of the seven circles among which the motion
of the Different was distributed. Here, once more, the motion of
the Different is spoken of as a single motion, common to all the
seven circles. We are now concerned only with the effects of these
two main factors, leaving out of account such complications as
retrogradation and the slowing down of the main motion by the
4 apparent counter-revolution \ We have only to think of all the
planets revolving at various speeds in the sense of the Different.

(1) Earlier cosmologies, based on the notion of the vortex, had
supposed that all the heavenly bodies were carried round by the
cosmic eddy in one direction only. The apparent backward move-

1 Here, as at Laws 898, it is clearly stated that every planet, like the other
heavenly gods, is a living creature with a body and an intelligent soul. So
Pr. iii, 701; Chalc., p. I7938.

* Reading lovaav . , . Kparov^v^v. The accusatives (read by Cicero and
Chalcidius) are necessary to the sense. Pr's comments (iii, 74”, rj 6a ripov
7T€pt<f>opa 8ia rrjs ravrov re cloi ical Kpareirai vn avrov, 75® rrjs 81) Qarepov <f>opas
tovovjs 8ta rijs ravrov koi KparovpJvrjs xm% avrijs) show that the accusatives should
be read in his lemma, p, 73**.

9 * distinct ' (81*27), as being in two different planes. Cf. 89E, rpia rpixfi'

1 12

THE PLANETS

ment of the planets from W. to E. through the signs of the Zodiac
was accordingly explained by their being * left behind ’ by the more
swiftly travelling fixed stars. Lucretius 1 quotes this view from
Democritus :

‘ The nearer the different constellations are to the earth, the
less they can be carried along with the whirl of heaven ; for the
velocity of its force, he says, passes away and the intensity
diminishes in the lower parts, and therefore the Sun is gradually
left behind with the rearward signs, because he is much lower
than the burning signs. And the moon more than the sun :
the lower her path is and the more distant she is from heaven
and the nearer she approaches to earth, the less she can keep
pace with the signs. For the fainter the whirl is on which she
is borne along, being as she is lower than the sun, so much the
more all the signs around overtake and pass her. Therefore it
is that she appears to come back to every sign more quickly,
because the signs go more quickly back to her/

On this theory of the * leaving behind ' ( inoXeixpiQ ) of the planets,
the Moon, overtaken and passed by all the signs in a month, is
really moving more slowly than Saturn, who is overtaken and
passed by them all only once in about thirty years and so comes
much nearer to keeping pace with the outside of the eddy.

Plato’s theory reverses the situation. The outermost movement,
which alone affects the fixed stars, is still the swiftest of all ; for
they complete their circuit in twenty-four hours. But the contrary
movement of the planets is now attributed to their own proper
motion, at various rates of speed, in the reverse direction. The
* swiftest ’ of them is the one which completes this journey in the
shortest time, namely the Moon. The ‘ slowest ’ is the outermost,
Saturn, ‘ the body which departs most slowly from the swiftest of
all movements ’. Thus the smaller the orbit, the quicker the body.

If we consider only these proper motions of the planets (neglecting
the movement of the Same which equally affects them all), the
Moon * overtakes ’ Saturn. Taking only a month to complete her
orbit, she will pass Saturn nearly once every month. But, as
Plato adds, ‘ by reason of the movement of the Same, those which
revolve most quickly seem to be overtaken by the slower, though
really overtaking them '. The movement of the Same carries stars
and planets together round the Earth once every day. Suppose
that at io p.m. to-night the Moon and Saturn are in a line with a
certain star in the Zodiac. By io p.m. to-morrow the fixed star

1 Lucr. v, 621 £f. (trans. Munro) = Democritus 55A, 88. Cf. Frank, Plato
u. d. sog. Pyth. 204.

THE PLANETS

38c-39e

will have come round to the same position. Saturn will have
shifted only a very little way eastwards, the Moon a much longer
distance. If (as on the vortex theory) we think only of this diurnal
movement of the Same and of the planets as trying to keep pace
with it, Saturn will have lost much less ground than the Moon and
will appear to overtake and pass her. Thus, ‘ by reason of the
movement of the Same those which revolve most quickly appear
to be overtaken by the slower, though really overtaking them \
But if we realise that all the planets are trying to make their own
way against the diurnal movement, Saturn will have gained least
ground and be really the slowest ; and the Moon will overtake and
pass him.

Plato makes the same point again at Laws 8 22A, where he declares
that the planets do not really ' wander * about, but each one (in
respect of its proper motion) ‘ always travels in a circle one and
the same path \ He adds that ‘ the quickest of them is wrongly
supposed to be the slowest, and vice versa \ The false opinion
was due to not recognising that each planet has its own proper
motion in the reverse direction, and imagining that the planets
were merely ‘ left behind ' by the fixed stars.

(2) The second consequence of the double motion theory is the
spiral twist. Martin 1 explains as follows : ‘ The Sun, for example,
which in this system is a planet, describes from the winter to the
summer solstice, on the surface of a sphere whose radius is the
distance of the Sun from the centre of the Earth, an ascending
spiral contained between the two tropics ; then it descends again
from the summer to the winter solstice describing on the same
sphere a spiral inverse to the former one. The two spirals taken
together make up as many turns as there are days in the year.
The turns of the two spirals become larger as they approach the
equator, but they are all traversed in equal times/ If we imagine
a model of the celestial Sphere revolving as a whole towards the
right, while the planetary rings inside revolve more slowly to the
left, the spiral twist will be the track followed by any one of the
planets on a sphere with the same radius as that planet's own circle.
It will none the less be true that the planet, in respect of its proper
motion, keeps always to one circular track, represented by the ring
to which it is fixed.

The only connection between the spiral twist and the other
question, which planet is really the swiftest, lies in the point that
both involve the recognition of a proper motion opposite in sense to
the movement of the Same. Plato is writing with extreme compres-
sion, in order to keep this astronomical section within due bounds.

1 Martin ii, 76. Theon, pp. 324, 329, gives a clear account.

114

THE PLANETS

39B. And in order that there might be a conspicuous measure for
the relative speed and slowness with which 1 they moved in
their eight revolutions, the god kindled a light in the second
orbit from the Earth — what we now call the Sun — in order
that he might fill the whole heaven with his shining and that
all living things for whom it was meet might possess number,
learning it from the revolution of the Same and uniform.

c. Thus and for these reasons day and night came into being,
the period of the single and most intelligent revolution.2

The purpose of the Demiurge is that mankind shall learn to count
and develope mathematics by the exercise of reckoning periods of
time, days, months, and years. The unit for this reckoning is the
shortest division of time produced by the celestial revolutions, the
period of day-and-night (vvxOijjLiEQov) 3 marked by the daily revolu-
tion of the whole heavens in the movement of the Same. Mankind
would not observe this revolution, if the Sun were no brighter than
the other planets. The brilliance of the Sun ‘ shining through the
whole heaven *, followed by the darkness of night and a new sunrise,
brings it home to man that this daily revolution does occur. The
Sun thus provides a ‘ conspicuous ' unit of measurement, in terms
of which the other periods can be calculated, with ‘ their relative
speed and slowness \4

39c. The month comes to be when the Moon completes her own
circle and overtakes the Sun ; the year, when the Sun has

1 Kady a, A.-H., Fraccaroli. The subject of iropevoiTo is easily supplied from
the previous sentence or from 7 rpds aXXrjXa. Plut. 1007A, alluding to our
passage, has the phrase perpov evapyes rrjs rrpos aXXrjXas f}pa$irrr}Ti Kal raxei rcov
okto) o<j>aipu>v 8ia<f>opas- This might support the conjecture r£<vt> 7 rpds aXXrjXa
PpabvrrjTL Kal ray^i [/cat] ra 7T€pl ras okto) <f>opas Tropcvoiro * a conspicuous unit to
measure with what relative slowness and speed the bodies involved in the
eight revolutions travel \

2 The single (undivided) revolution of the Same, which is the only motion
of translation possessed by the fixed stars.

3 So in the Epinomis 978D the Heaven, causing the stars to revolve * for
many nights and days teaches man to count ‘ one and two ’ and so to
advance to other numbers. Cf. 47A and p. 91, note 1 above.

4 It is man, not the planets and stars, who is to benefit by this 1 conspicuous
measure \ This point involves rejecting the MSS. reading Kal ra at 39B, 3.
Tr. (retaining Kal ra) translates : ‘ That there might be a plain measure of
their relative slowness and speed, and the eight revolutions go on their way,
God kindled a light. . . .* The planets, he explains (quoting Cook Wilson)
need a light to see their way — * a humorous touch \ The humour, if it can
be detected, is irrelevant. Also the eight revolutions include the fixed stars.
Can these need the Sun’s help to see their way ? Tr.'s suggestion that all
planets (like the moon) reflect the sun’s light is supported by no evidence.
Plato’s point is that the Sun is the only planet bright enough to make the
difference of day and night conspicuous to mankind.

115

THE PLANETS

38c-39e

39c. gone round his own circle. The periods of the rest have not
been observed by men, save for a few ; and men have no
names for them, nor do they measure one against another by
numerical reckoning. They barely know that the wanderings
of these others are time at all, bewildering as they are in

d. number and of surprisingly intricate pattern. None the less
it is possible to grasp that the perfect number of time fulfils
the perfect year at the moment when the relative speeds of
all the eight revolutions have accomplished their courses
together and reached their consummation, as measured by
the circle of the Same and uniformly moving.

In this way, then, and for these ends were brought into
being all those stars that have turnings 1 on their journey
through the Heaven ; in order that this world may be as

e. like as possible to the perfect and intelligible Living Creature,
in respect of imitating its ever-enduring nature.

Men have no names like ‘ month ‘ year *, for the periods of
planets other than the Moon and Sun. These two are the most
conspicuous and they both proceed uniformly on their course.
The five remaining planets exhibit apparent irregularities, some of
which have been mentioned. The complete analysis of their com-
posite motion involves factors additional to the two great motions
of the World-Soul. The result is a ' bewildering ' (d/urj/dvcp, not
‘ incalculable ') number of motions of surprisingly intricate pattern.
Plato must have been acquainted with the system of Eudoxus,
which required for each of these five planets not less than four
spheres revolving on different axes, in order to reduce their apparent
irregularity to a compound of circular motions. Three spheres each
were enough for the Sun and Moon. The total of twenty-seven
spheres would certainly make a pattern whose intricacy would
bewilder a layman. Plato does not commit himself to Eudoxus'
system, which may have been recognised at the time as only giving
an approximate picture, and was soon to be still further complicated
by Callippus and Aristotle. If the * contrary power * of the five
planets has been rightly explained above as causing variations in
speed without change of track, Plato's own system is different,
and an armillary sphere representing the planetary movements,
if it were not required to work mechanically, would be of much
simpler construction.

Though the readers of the Timaeus would be bewildered by these
complications, ‘ none the less it is possible to grasp ' the notion of

1 rpoTTai. The Sun, for instance, * turns back ’ at the top of its spiral
when it touches the tropic of Cancer at midsummer.

1 16

THE HEAVENLY GODS

a Great Year, completed when all the heavenly bodies come back
to the same relative positions. This notion was an ancient one,
going back to the earliest attempts to arrive at a period of years
which would coincide with a number of complete months. Plato
extends it to include the periods of the remaining planets. He
gives no estimate of its length.1 There is, as Taylor remarks, no
suggestion that the end of the period is marked by any cosmic
cataclysm. Such a catastrophe is, in fact, out of the question.
The hands of a perfect clock would regain at every moment the
position at which they were twelve hours before. Since the celestial
clock was never set going at any moment of time, there was never
any original position to serve as starting-point. The period, what-
ever it may be, is beginning and ending at every moment of time.
This perpetual recurrence, as the concluding sentence remarks, is
the nearest approach that the visible world can make to the eternal
duration of the unchanging model. If the language of our passage
suggests a period beginning at some one date and ending at another.,
that is only because the myth speaks as if Time and its instruments
had been created at some moment which would mark the beginning
of such a period.

39E-40B. The four kinds of living creature. The heavenly gods
So far, the planets are the only living creatures, within the
universal frame, whose creation has been described. Among the
everlasting gods who were to take up their positions in that frame,
the planets were singled out because they are, in a special way,
the ‘ instruments of Time ' ; and Plato wished first to define Time
in order to contrast the temporal existence of even the everlasting
gods with the unchanging duration of the eternal model. Time
cannot exist without the clock. Plato, accordingly, had to antici-
pate the creation of the heavenly gods by mentioning the planets.
He now repeats the statement (37c, 38D) that the Demiurge designed
to make his image as like as possible to the model. This is to be
done by making all the four chief families of living creature, corre-
sponding to the four regions of fire, air, water, and earth.

39E. Now so far, up to the birth of Time, the world had been
made in other respects in the likeness of its pattern ; but it
was still unlike in that it did not yet contain all living
creatures brought into being within it. So he set about
accomplishing this remainder of his work, making the copy
after the nature of the model. He thought that this world
must possess all the different forms that intelligence discerns
contained in the Living Creature that truly is. And there
1 See Tr., pp. 217 ft. Heath, Aristarchus 172.

II7

THE HEAVENLY GODS

38c-39e

39E. are four : one, the heavenly race of gods ; second, winged
40 things whose path is in the air ; third, all that dwells in the
water ; and fourth, all that goes on foot on the dry land.

The Demiurge himself, however, makes only the living creatures
of the first class, the gods within the heaven.1 These are the fixed
stars, the planets, and Earth. Since the planets and some of their
motions have already been mentioned, the following sentences
refer specially to the fixed stars. But the planets are brought in
at the end of the paragraph.

40. The form of the divine kind he made for the most part of
fire, that it might be most bright and fair to see ; and after
the likeness of the universe he gave them well-rounded 2
shape, and set them in the intelligence of the supreme to
keep company with it, distributing them all round the heaven,
to be in very truth an adornment ( cosmos ) for it, embroidered
over the whole. And he assigned to each two motions : one
uniform in the same place, as each always thinks the same
b. thoughts about the same things ; the other a forward motion,
as each is subjected to the revolution of the Same and uniform.
But in respect of the other five motions he made each motion-
less and still, in order that each might be as perfect as possible.

For this reason came into being all the unwandering stars,
living beings divine and everlasting, which abide for ever
revolving uniformly upon themselves ; while those stars that
having turnings and in that sense 3 ' wander ' came to be in
the manner already described.

The stars have spherical bodies, mostly composed of fire, but
containing some portions of the other primary bodies. Without
earth, as Proclus says, they would not be ‘ solid ' masses resistant
to touch ; and the other two primary bodies are the ‘ means '
which hold fire and earth together (31B). Their composition is
similarly described in the Epinomis (981D) in a passage which
refers to all the heavenly bodies. There is no reason to doubt that
the statement here applies to the planets, as Proclus held.

‘ The intelligence of the supreme ', in which the stars are set,
is a short expression for the revolution of the Same, that rational

1 At Rep. 508 the heavenly bodies are called * the gods in the heaven *
(to>v ev ovpavto Oecov).

2 cvkvkXov for * spherical * is reminiscent of Parmenides 8, 43, cvkvkXov
o<f>alpT)s, quoted by Plato at Soph . 244E.

8 Toiavrqv. But only in that sense. They are not really * wanderers
but keep to their regular paths, though they ‘ turn * back at the limits of
their spiral tracks.

Il8

THE HEAVENLY GODS

motion of the World-Soul which was described (36c) as having the
supremacy over the interior motion and in fact affects the whole
universe.1 The circle symbolising the plane of that motion is the
equatorial circle of the sphere, over the whole of whose surface the
stars are scattered. All the fixed stars move together in the daily
revolution, as if they were set in a solid sphere. But there is no
material sphere ; the stars move freely, though they keep their
relative positions. The rotation of the heaven thus becomes for
each individual star an imparted motion of translation : the star
moves ' forward ' along its circular track parallel to the equator.
Every star has also, we are now told, a second motion, rotation on
its own axis. The reason is that ‘ each always thinks the same
thoughts about the same things \ Here, for the first time in the
Timaeus , it is explained why axial rotation is regarded as * that
one of the seven motions which above all belongs to reason and
intelligence ' (34A).

Every star has its own intelligent soul, ‘ and accordingly its own
proper motion ; for the soul is the source of motion ’ (Pr. iii, 119).
The same is true of the planets, as Proclus remarks. They also
must have axial rotation ; and, in fact, the Moon is the only
heavenly body whose rotation could actually be observed. She
must rotate on her axis in order to keep the same face always
towards the Earth. This is a consequence of the free movement
of stars and planets. If they were set rigidly in material spheres or
rings which carried them round, they would, of course, all have the
same face always turned towards the Earth, but it would be possible
to deny (as Aristotle does) that they have an independent motion of
rotation. Since Plato’s circles symbolise movements only and are
not material rings, he recognises this rotation as an independent
proper movement, due to the individual soul of star or planet.

The last sentence is intended to convey that the statements
about the composition and proper movements of the heavenly gods
cover the planets, which are, just as much as the * un wan dering
stars ', divine and everlasting living beings, and must have the
movement proper to their intelligent souls.2 Earlier the planets
were treated merely as the instruments of Time, and the periodic
motions relevant to this function were alone described. Their
axial rotation was not there relevant ; we are to understand that
it is added here, as the movement of intelligence, which they possess
equally with the fixed stars.

1 Cf. 47B, 7, * the circuits of intelligence (rod vov ) in the heaven \

2 So also Albinus, Didasc. xiv, ‘ All these (stars and planets) are intelligent
living beings and gods and spherical in shape.* The Laws and Epinomis
leave no doubt on this point.

119

ROTATION OF THE EARTH

40b-c

40B-C. Rotation of the Earth

The Earth is now included, with the stars and planets, as * the
most venerable of all the gods within the heaven ’. She, too, is a
‘ living being, divine and everlasting ’ ; as such, she must possess
a soul as well as a body, and Soul being defined as ‘ the self-moving
thing ’, she may be expected to possess a proper movement of
axial rotation, in the same right as the stars and planets. But is
this consistent with the rest of Plato’s astronomical scheme in the
Timaeus ? The question has been debated by ancient and modem
critics without reaching any agreement. It turns on the interpreta-
tion of the word IXXofxevrjV (‘ winds ’) in the following sentence :

40B. And Earth he designed to be at once our nurse and, as she

c. winds 1 round the axis that stretches right through, the
guardian and maker of night and day, first and most vener-
able of all the gods that are within the heaven.

The problem is this : (1) Day and Night have been described
at 39c as ‘ the period (or circuit, negiodog) of the single §md most
intelligent revolution ’, namely the revolution of the Same, which
carries round with it ( aweno/uevov , 40A) all the fixed stars. Every-
thing that has been said about this revolution clearly implies that
it is a real movement, due to the self-moving Soul of the World,

1 Burnet reads lAAopevrjv be rrjv rrepl tov bid rravros rroAov rerapevov, with the
note : * rrjv A P : om. FY Plut If rrjv is sound, we must supply 6bov, and
some movement is certainly intended. But rrjv is omitted not only by Plut.
1006c, lAAopevrjv rrepl tov bid rravrcov rroAov rerapevov, but also by Aristotle,
de caelo 293 b, 30, evioi be Kal Keipevqv err l tov Kevrpov <f>aoiv avrrjv iXAeodai /cat
Kiveiodai rrepl tov bid navros rerapevov ttoAov, wcmep ev rw Tipalip yeyparrrai ;
by Simplic., de caelo 517, 8, rj pev ev Tipaitp prjaris tov nAarcovos ovrcos cxct ’ *YVV
bi Tpo<f>ov rjpeTepav, lAAopevrjv 8^ rrepl tov bia rravros TeTapevov -ttoAov* kt A.
(t po<f>ov Ab : Tpo<f>6v pkv Fc), cf. ibid. 532, 5, 12 ; by Proclus 13311 (lemma) ;
and, as we may infer, by all who took lAAopevrjv to mean ‘ packed ' or
‘ globed or maintained that the Earth has no movement, including, e.g.
Albinus, Didasc. xv, 7repl tov bid rravros rerapevov urjnyyopevrj rroAov, Pr. iii,
1 36, IXXeaQ ai Aeyerai rrepl tov bid rravros rerapevov rroAov , 8tdrt brj rrepl tov a£ova tov
rravros awexera t Kal ovo<f>iyyerai ; Chalcid. constnctam limitibus per omnia
uadentis et cuncta continentis poli (trans. p. 41), which he says (p. 187)
may mean * medietati mundi adhaerentem quiescere terram * (impossible with
t^p) ; Theon (representing Adrastus and Dercylides), p. 212, fopopevrjs berijs
ovpavlas otj>alpas rrepl pevovras rovs eavrrjs rroAovs Kal tov emX^evywvra a£ova, rrepl ov
pAoov eprjpeiarai 1} yrj (the last words paraphrase our passage, which is not
discussed elsewhere in Theon) ; Iamblichus (Pr. iii, 139). Since no ancient
authority betrays any knowledge of the reading n)p, which must imply
motion, I cannot believe in its antiquity, though I hold that IXAopdvrjv does
mean motion, and the presence of ttjv would not invalidate my view. At
Phaedo io8e the Earth is said to be at the centre of the heaven and to
stay there because equidistant from the extremity in alb directions. There is
nothing to show whether or not it is regarded as rotating.

120

ROTATION OF THE EARTH

not an apparent movement to be explained by saying that the
stars really stand still while the Earth rotates daily. This appears
to me indisputable. (2) It follows that, if Plato is consistent, the
Earth must stand still, relatively to the diurnal revolution of the
stars. If it had an actual daily rotation in either sense, then day
and night would not be produced, as they are, by that revolution.
Earth would be anything but * the guardian and maker of day and
night \ As Proclus says (iii, 139), 1 she must 4 guard ' day and
night by not moving, and ‘ make 1 night by her shadow. (3) The
chief objection to supposing that the Earth is absolutely at rest
is a very serious one. Aristotle (de caelo ii, 13), intent on proving
that the Earth must be at rest and at the centre of the universe,
discusses two other views, (a) 4 The Italian philosophers known
as Pythagoreans hold that there is a fire at the centre, and that
the Earth is one of the heavenly bodies {daxqa, i.e. planets), creating
night and day as it revolves about the centre. They further provide
another Earth, in opposition to ours, which they call “ Counter-
earth Some added yet more revolving bodies, which the Earth
hides from our sight, to account for eclipses, (b) 4 Some, again,
say that the Earth, though situated at the centre, 44 winds ”, i.e.
moves, 44 round the axis which stretches right through”, as it is
written in the Timaeus,1 It is beyond question that Aristotle
interprets our passage as meaning that the Earth is situated at the
centre, not a planet revolving round a central fire ; and that it
has a 4 winding ' motion round the axis of the universe.2 * What
sort of motion he understood will appear later.

Modern critics have been driven to suppose either (as some
ancients thought) that Aristotle misunderstood the word UXeaOaij
or that he deliberately misrepresented Plato's doctrine. Others
think that neither Plato nor Aristotle noticed that an axial rotation
was inconsistent with the earlier statement that day and night are
the period of the revolution of the Same. But if Aristotle had
wished to misrepresent Plato, he would have done better to make
out that the phrase means planetary revolution at a distance from
the centre and to class Plato with the Pythagoreans, instead of
carefully distinguishing his view from theirs ; for the Pythagorean
view, which removes Earth from the centre, is to Aristotle the more
objectionable and bears the main brunt of his attack. That neither

1 Following Plut. ioo6e.

8 Cf. the summary of the Timaeus in Diog. L. iii, 75, otoav 8k cm roC p,4aov
KivclaOat, TTf.pl to fxcaov. The author of Tim. Locr. (97D) understood that the
earth is at the centre (cV p4o<p i8pvfi4va, a word which does not exclude motion) .

So did Albinus, Didasc. xv, kcitcu 8k 1} fikv yrj t<ov qXwv pAcrq, adding a para-

phrase of the rest of our sentence.

ROTATION OF THE EARTH

40b-c

Plato nor Aristotle should notice the discrepancy is to me incredible.
Eudoxus and his students had been working at the Academy on the
problem of the celestial motions, and surely someone would have
pointed out the contradiction, if Plato and Aristotle were too stupid
to see it. These suggestions are desperate expedients, which ought
to be cheerfully abandoned, if it could be shown that the Earth
can have some circular motion without upsetting the explanation
of day and night as due to the diurnal revolution of the Same.

If there is any such possible motion, the choice lies between
(a) planetary revolution at a distance from the centre and ( b ) some
* winding * motion at the centre. These are the only alternatives,
known to Aristotle, to an absolutely stationary Earth. ' All/ he
says, ' who deny that the Earth is situated at the centre think
that it revolves (as a planet) about the centre/ (These are the
Pythagoreans previously mentioned.) Some admit that the Earth
is at the centre, but assign to it a 4 winding ' motion round the
axis, * as is written in the Timaeus \1

( a ) The difficulties supposed to be involved in any axial rotation
have led some critics to obliterate this clear distinction and to
identify the winding motion of the Timaeus with planetary revolu-

1 Aristotle’s 4 all ’ formally excludes Burnet's suggestion of * a motion up
and down (to speak loosely) on the axis of the universe itself ’ ( E.G.P .3 303).
It is hard to take this explanation of iMeodai seriously. Even if it were true
that 4 the only clearly attested meaning of the rare word lXXop.ai is just that
of motion to and fro, backwards and forwards : Cf. Soph., Ant. 340, tAAo/zeiw
aporpotv eras els eros’ , it may be remarked that ploughs do not go backwards
and forwards in the same furrow, but wind to and fro in a serpentine track.
This is not oscillation, and cannot be supported by the oscillation ( aiu>pa ) of
water inside the Earth at Phaedo hie. Aristotle ( Meteor . 356a, 3) describes
this up and down movement as 4 oscillation about the centre * (7 repl to fieoov
cl\€l<jOcu), but 4 about the centre ’ is not the same thing as 4 about the axis ’.
Oscillation along the axis is not compatible with 4 the only admissible transla-
tion : Earth, our nurse, going to and fro on its path round the axis ’ (Burnet,
Gk. Phil. 348), as Heath observes ( Gk . A sir. xli). There is no trace in the
history of Greek astronomy or, so far as I know, anywhere else, of this
grotesque notion that the Earth jumps up and down along the axis. Such
a motion would upset the whole theory of the Spiral Twist. It certainly never
occurred to any ancient commentator that Plato meant this or that Aristotle
was arguing against this view. His description of the Earth as 4 situated ’
or 4 lying ' (Keifievrjv) at the centre excludes oscillation to and from the centre.
If the most venerable of the gods within the heaven has any motion, it can
only be the circular motion of reason, not any of those rectilinear motions
which are expressly excluded for all the other gods. Mr. F. H. Sandbach
has pointed out to me that in Sext. Emp. math x, 93, al rrepl rots /cva>8a£iv
clXovpLcvcu o<f>alp<u ; unquestionably means 4 spheres rotating on pivots '.
Armillary spheres may be meant. Cf. also Lydus de mens, ii, 4, kvkXos i<f>' eavrov
elXov/xcvos. I cannot pursue the intricacies resulting from Tr.’s theory that
Timaeus puts forward a view which Plato did not hold himself.

122

ROTATION OF THE EARTH

tion at a distance from the centre. The Timaeus , in fact, is, in
spite of Aristotle,1 to be interpreted as stating the Pythagorean
theory. The objections to this view are, to my mind, overwhelming.

(1) Plato clearly implies that the effect of the movement, if
movement it be, is that Earth is the guardian and maker of day
and night.2 The inference is that the period of the alleged planetary
revolution is twenty-four hours. In accomplishing this daily
revolution, does the Earth also rotate on her axis, like the moon,
so as to keep the face on which we live always turned away from
the centre of the universe ? So the Pythagoreans held. But if
so, her revolution will, according to its sense, either cancel the
effect of the daily revolution of the stars, and there will be no day
and night, or else the period of day and night will be forty-eight
hours. If she does not rotate on her axis, the face we live on will
be turned once every day towards the centre of the universe. This,
according to these Pythagoreans, is occupied by the Central Fire.
Why, then, do we never see this Central Fire crossing the skies ?

(2) If the Earth revolves as a planet, why was not the circle of
the Different divided into eight (not seven) planetary circles ?
Why was not the Earth reckoned among the planets where they
were described as the instruments of Time ? Why was her period
not counted, as a ninth, with the eight others whose consummation
makes up the period of the Great Year ? I can see no answer to
these questions.3

1 And Proclus, who does not doubt that Earth is at the centre (iii, 133).
On 41 d (sowing of the souls into Earth and into the planets as instruments
of time) he remarks : o vre yap 77 yfj aarpov . . . ovre ra (ittX avrj opyava elprjraL
Xpovov . . . p.6v a S^ ra Tr\avu>pL€va Kai a arpa ecm Kai opyava ypovov. Indeed, a state-
ment of Theophrastus (which we shall consider later) that Plato in his old
age repented of having given earth the central position, stands alone. All
other ancient authorities either state or assume that Plato's Earth was at
the centre.

2 This has been denied, e.g. by Tr. (p. 240), but Tr., like other translators,
ignores the effect of pkv and Sc in the sentence. The god gives Earth two
functions : he makes her (1) rpo(f>6v pkv rjpLCTepav, (2) D\Xoplvrjv hk . . . <f>v\aKa
Kai Srjfuovpyov vvktos Kai ripepas • * to be at once our nursing-mother, and, as
winding round the axis, the guardian and maker of day and night \ There
is no proper contrast between rpo<j>ov (p,€v) and IXXo^vtjv (Sc) . The translation :

‘ But earth, our foster-mother, that goes to and fro on her path about the
axis of the universe, he contrived for a guardian,' etc., simply ignores the
existence of p.kv and Sc,

8 Pr. iii, 13811, urges the last point as an argument against any movement
of the Earth. Tr. (p. 239) admits a contradiction, but attributes it to a
‘ want of adaptation ' of Timaeus' views about the Great Year and about
the movement of the Earth ; Timaeus has ‘ no finished system ' ; he is
* engaged on the working out of a science which is progressive '. On this
principle, no statement in the Timaeus can be used to determine the meaning
of any other ; the science may always have progressed in the interval.

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ROTATION OF THE EARTH 40b-c

(3) If Earth is hot at the centre of the universe, what is at the
centre ? The only alternatives are : the Pythagorean Central Fire
and no solid body at all. The second is entirely incredible. No
ancient system of astronomy ever contemplated the possibility that
the centre of the world should be unoccupied. Aristotle, writing
before the heliocentric theory was propounded, says that all who
regarded the entire universe as finite 1 held that Earth was at the
centre, with the exception of the Pythagoreans, who had their
Central Fire. We must, then, assume (as the adherents of the
planetary theory do) that the Earth is to revolve round the Central
Fire. But the Timaeus says nothing whatever about any Central
Fire. Can anyone believe that, if Plato had thought of the Earth
as a planet, he would have made no mention at all of the body
round which Earth, planets, and stars all revolve ? 2 No writer
with that picture in his mind could describe the motion of the
Earth as ' winding round the axis that stretches all through \ More-
over, the very existence of a free body of fire at the centre contradicts
the whole theory of the natural motions of the primary bodies.
We learn later that the main body of fire is at, or towards, the
circumference (63B ff.), and that every primary body has a natural
tendency towards its like. The so-called ‘ lightness * of fire is
explained by this tendency. If we can imagine someone stationed
aloft in the region of fire and trying to force fire ‘ downwards ' into
the alien region of air, he would find that fire resisted his efforts
and he would have to call it * heavy \ We shall later come to an
elaborate account of the interaction of the primary bodies, explicitly
designed to explain why all the fire in the universe has not escaped
to the main body on the outside (58A). All this flatly contradicts
the notion of a free body of fire properly situated at the centre.

I conclude that, when Plato said that the Earth 4 winds round
the axis \ he did not mean that it revolves at a distance from the
axis round a body which he never mentions and which cannot

1 As distinct from the Atomists, who believed in an unlimited plurality of
worlds scattered over infinite space. Infinite space has no centre. But even
the Atomists held that our Earth is at the centre of its own world.

2 Burnet (E.G.P.8 304) says : ‘ We know from the unimpeachable authority
of Theophrastus, who was a member of the Academy in Plato’s later years,
that he had then abandoned the geocentric hypothesis, though we have no
information as to what he supposed to be in the centre of our system ’ (my italics) .
Unless this is an oversight, Burnet's Earth must bounce up and down at
some distance from the centre. If there were any body there, the collision
that would result from the Earth reaching the centre or attempting to cross
it would have frightful consequences. Tr. (p. 235) recognises that on this
view (which he attributes to Timaeus, but not to Plato) the centre must be
empty except when the Earth happens to be just passing the centre in its
excursions.

124

ROTATION OF THE EARTH

exist in his physical system ; or that it revolves round nothing
at all. Finding no support whatever in the Timaeus itself, the
adherents of the planetary theory fall back on a statement which
Plutarch attributes to Theophrastus : that 4 Plato, when he had
grown old, repented of having assigned to earth the central position,
which did not properly belong to it \1 Theophrastus does not
often disagree with Aristotle, and the two could be reconciled, if
we could suppose that Plato’s repentance took place after he had
written the Timaeus. But then we should expect to find the
Central Fire and the planetary motion in the Laws and the Epinomis.
Neither of these works ever hints at the existence of the Pythagorean
Central Fire, and the passages {Laws, 822c and Epin. 987B) alleged
to support planetary motion are at least capable of other inter-
pretations.2 If Aristotle had known of Plato's repentance, he had
no motive for not mentioning his master's adoption of the Pytha-
gorean scheme.

So far the weight of evidence seems to be against Theophrastus,
but perhaps a reconciliation is possible on somewhat different
lines. It has been suggested that Aristotle himself alludes to the
repentant Plato in his opening passage {de caelo ii, 13). He first
mentions the Pythagoreans as the only philosophers with a finite
universe who do not place the Earth at the centre.

‘ At the centre, they say, is fire, and the Earth is one of the

heavenly bodies, which makes day and night as it revolves round

1 Plut., Plat. Qu. viii, 1006c ; Life of Numa xi. Tr. (p. 228) says, it would
be most natural to suppose that the statement of Theophrastus occurred in
his IJepl <f>v<HKu>v Bogu>v, ‘ where as we see from Aetius, Placita iii, 11-13, the
questions whether the earth is at the centre and whether it moves were
discussed ’. But Aetius iii, 11, attributes the doctrine that Fire, not Earth,
is at the centre to Philolaus only, without mentioning Plato at all ; and
13 attributes a stationary earth to all except Philolaus (planetary motion),
Heracleides and Ecphantus (axial rotation at the centre), and Democritus.
Aet. ii, 7 (7 Tcpi ragews rod Koopov), says that Plato arranged the elements in
the order : * fire first, then aether, next air, next water, and last earth ;
though sometimes he connects aether with fire '. Further on, Philolaus’
system is described, with ‘ fire in the midst about the centre ', which is
4 primary by nature If Aetius represents Theophrastus' Physical Opinions
correctly, Plutarch must have had some other source. That Theophrastus
cannot have attributed the planetary theory to Plato in that work may be
inferred from Simplic., de caelo 513 : Alexander said the question who these
* others ' were was cVc rfjs loropias irjvqriov. If the answer had been in Theo-
phrastus’ history, it would have been found by Alexander and reproduced
by Simplicius ; but he can suggest no one earlier than Aristotle who had
agreed with the so-called Pythagoreans.

2 See above, p. 89 fi. I may appeal to the fact that so careful and judicious
an authority as Sir Thomas Heath has interpreted both passages differently
at different times.

P.C.

125

40b-c

ROTATION OF THE EARTH

the centre. They further provide another Earth in opposition
to ours, which they call “ Counter-earth ”, not looking for theories
and explanations to account for observed facts, but rather
attempting to force facts into agreement with certain theories
and opinions of their own.

Many others , however, might agree that it is wrong to give earth
the central position, looking for confirmation to theory rather than
the facts of observation.1 They think that the most honourable
place fittingly belongs to the most honourable thing (n/uLcordra)),
that fire is more honourable than earth, and the limit more honourable
than the intermediate, and centre and circumference are limits .
Reasoning from these premisses they think it is not earth that lies
at the centre of the sphere, but rather fire. Besides, the Pytha-
goreans, at any rate, have the further reason that the most
important part (xvqudtcltov) of the world ought to be most
strictly guarded, and this is the centre, which they call the
Guardhouse of Zeus [Aloq cpvXaxrjv) — the fire which occupies this
position/

The sentences in italics referring to the * many others ’ who
might agree that earth ought not to hold the most honourable
place, certainly recall Theophrastus’ statement and it has been
inferred that ‘ many others ' means the elderly Plato and perhaps
Speusippus and other members of the Academy. But it is important
to observe precisely what these others ' might agree to \ Aristotle
has said that the Pythagoreans are alone in holding the planetary
motion of Earth and Counter-earth round a Central Fire ; and
later he adds that in the Timaeus the Earth is not a planet but at
the centre. The ‘ others ’ are not said to agree to planetary motion
round a Central Fire 2 but to the Pythagoreans’ estimate of the
element, fire, as more honourable than the element, earth. The
most honourable element ought to occupy both centre and circum-
ference because both these are ‘ limits ’, and limits are more
honourable than what lies between them. That is all. Aristotle
then returns to the Pythagoreans.

Now we know from Simplicius that the doctrine of a central fire
existed among the Pythagoreans in another form. Some, whom

1 By these ‘ facts of observation ' Aristotle may mean the fact that any
piece of earth, and therefore (as he argues) Earth as a whole, has a natural
tendency to seek rest at its proper region, the centre. He insists on this in
his criticism.

* This observation disposes of Tr.'s argument leading to the conclusion
that Plato (whom Tr. has earlier identified with these ‘ others ') ‘ had con-
sistently taught that the earth is a planet during the twenty years of
Aristotle's connexion with him in the Academy ' (p. 231).

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ROTATION OF THE EARTH

he describes as * more genuine ’ adherents of the school, * mean by
fire at the centre the creative powkr which gives life to the whole
Earth from the centre and revives warmth in that part of her
which has grown cold. Hence some call it the Tower (jtvQyov) of
Zeus, as Aristotle himself says in his account of the Pythagoreans,
some the Guardhouse ((pvXaxrjv) of Zeus, as here, some the Throne
of Zeus, as others .report. They spoke of the Earth as a ‘ star '
(aaxQov) in the sense that she is herself too an instrument of time
as the cause of days and nights, making day on the side illuminated
by the sun and night by her conical shadow. The Pythagoreans
gave the name ‘ Counter-earth ’ to the Moon (as also ‘ heavenly
Earth ’), both as intercepting the Sun’s light, which is a peculiarity
of Earth, and as marking the limit of the heavenly bodies, as the
Earth marks the limit of what is beneath the Moon \1 Hilda
Richardson 2 * * * used this passage among others to support her view
that ‘ the*earliest generations of the Pythagorean school conceived
of fire as existing at the heart of their central, spherical earth.
It was only the separation of this fire from the earth and the con-
version of the earth into a planet that was late She claims that
this passage in Simplicius shows ‘ that some Pythagoreans at some
period held the doctrine of a central fire hidden in the bowels of
the earth and that the doctrine was considered a piece of genuine
Pythagoreanism. Simplicius gives no indication of date, but it has
been shown above that the doctrine need not necessarily be late.
It may quite well have been early.’

It seems to be, at least, a not improbable view that the * more
genuine ’ Pythagoreans adhered to the primitive doctrine of a fire
in the heart of the central Earth. Rejecting the Central Fire of the
planetary theory, they transferred its peculiar terminology to
established features of the older system. ‘ Tower of Zeus ’ becomes
another name for their own fire, which may already have been
known as the ' throne ’ or ‘ guard house ’ of Zeus ; * Counter-earth ’
is transferred to the Moon as a ‘ heavenly Earth ’. Since Simplicius

1 Simplic., de caelo 512.

2 Class. Qu. xx (1926), p. 1 19. She writes that this form of the doctrine
was ‘ regarded by Zeller (I6, 420) as a late modification of the central fire

system described by Aristotle in the De Caelo on the ground that the doctrine
of the earth's revolution on its axis is only found among the Pythagoreans
of the fourth century. But it is not necessary to suppose that the earth in

the system described by Simplicius rotated on its axis. (This is pointed

out by Sir T. Heath Aristarchus of Samos, p. 250.) Rather it is exactly like
the central earth of Plato's Timaeus which, while possessing no rotatory
motion on its axis, yet is called <j>v\aKa kcli Srjfuovpyov vv/cros re Kal 17/u ipas, because

by remaining fast in its central position on the axis of the cosmos it creates
night by casting its shadow. . . .'

127

ROTATION OF THE EARTH 40b-c

actually gives Aristotle's books On the Pythagoreans as his authority
for * Tower of Zeus ' as applied to the fire in the centre of the
Earth, I see no reason to doubt that he took the whole account of
both forms of the doctrine from the same source.1 In the de caelo
itself Aristotle mentions the Pythagoreans who hold that the
centre, as the most important part of the world, needs to be
guarded by a fire called the Guardhouse of Zeus, immediately
after those * others ' who think that the most honourable element
should hold the most honourable place, and that there should
consequently be fire at the centre as well as at the circumference
of the sphere.2

If we put all this together, it is a reasonable conclusion that those
* others ' did not hold the planetary theory (as indeed Aristotle
implies), but were quite content with the perhaps older doctrine
of a fire in the heart of a central Earth. If the * others’ are Plato
and Speusippus, the repentance of the elderly Plato may be traced
back to some remark of his, which Theophrastus had heard of, to
the effect that in the Timaeus he had wrongly spoken as if the
element, earth, had its proper place in the centre, and the element,
fire, were naturally situated at the circumference. He had, indeed,
recognised the presence of fire and of the other primary bodies
inside the Earth, both in the T imaeus and in the Phaedo , where the
central Earth contains rivers of fire, air, and water ; but he ought
to have acknowledged that fire, as the most honourable element,
was not merely entrapped in the Earth but had its rightful place
at the core of the Earth and of the universe. The last sentence of
the Critias describes Zeus as summoning all the gods ‘ to their most
honourable habitation (t ijLUCorarrjv oixrjoiv) which stands at the
midst of the universe and surveys all that has part in becoming/
This is, of course, mythical language; it recalls the procession of
the gods in the Phaedrus, where ‘ Hestia alone stays in the house
of the gods'. If Hestia there is the Earth, the name at least sug-
gests that Earth is the central hearth of the world. The Politicus
myth (272E) leaves doubtful the situation of that 'place of out-
look ' (neQUomrj) , to which the Governor of the universe retires
when he abandons control. But all these passages suggest that
Plato was familiar with that ‘ Tower of Zeus ' which the more

1 See Ar. frag. 204R.

* Proclus (who assumes as a matter of course that Plato's Earth is at the
centre) mentions that * the Pythagoreans called the centre of the universe
Zavos rrvpyov, cbs hrjfuovpyLfcrjs <f>povpas iv €K€lvcu rcrayfxeirqs \ and says that this
Tower of Zeus is inside the Earth (iii, 14111, X4326) . In the context he refers
to the Phaedo as authority for the Earth containing all the elements — rivers
of fire, water, and air — and so being a sort of microcosm.

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ROTATION OF THE EARTH

genuine Pythagoreans identified with the fire at the centre of the
Earth.1

What is certain is that Theophrastus’ statement is, in any case
perfectly consistent with the repentant Plato’s recognising a fire
properly situated at the centre of the Earth. It provides no ground
for rejecting Aristotle's plain assertion that the Earth in the
Timaeus is not a planet but situated at the centre.2 In the history
of astronomy the planetary theory was an aberration, confined,
according to Aristotle, to a section of the Italian philosophers who
called themselves Pythagoreans, in the early fourth century. As
he remarks, they were not trying to account for observed facts,
but constructing a system to fit preconceived notions. They did
not stick at inventing two non-existent bodies which could never
be observed without visiting the antipodes — the Central Fire and
the Counter-earth — in order to give fire the most honourable
position and to raise the number of circles to the sacred number
ten. Plato, we know, had set his own school the task of working
out a scheme which should best account for the observed facts ;
and Eudoxus, among others, took up the challenge. Plato's
attitude towards astronomy had become more scientific since the
Republic , which recommends the student to dispense with the starry
heavens. I cannot believe that in his old age he repented of this
attitude and adopted a system which had no future among serious

1 Hilda Richardson (loc. cit.) developes further the connection between
the 77-oAos Sia Travros reraficvos of Tim. 40c, the 81a 7 ravros tov ovpavov teal yijs <f>u>S
€vdv,otov Kiova of Rep. 6i6b, and the World-Soul of Tim . 34B, f/ivyfjv els to p^oov
avrov dels 81 a navros re creivev. She suggests that ‘ the epithet Zrjvos irvpyos for
the central fire, for which we have the excellent evidence of Aristotle (frag. 204)
has some connection with the pillar of the sky-god. At any rate, both this
epithet and those which correspond to it, such as Ai6s <j>vXatc^ (Ar., de caelo
2936, 2), Alos Qpovos (Simplic.), and Aios oXkos (Aet. ii, 7, 7, Philolaus) point
to connections of the central fire with the sky-god as well as the earth ; and
these connections lend some support to the theory that the central fire may
have been regarded as flaming upwards and outwards from the earth and
may have eventually come to be shaped into the form of a cosmic axis/

2 So little foundation is there for Frank’s assertion (Plato u. d. sog. Pyth . 207)
that Theophrastus explicitly attributes the planetary theory to Plato in his
old age, and that this remained the system of the Academy after his death :

* fast alle unmittelbaren Sch tiler Platos haben es gelehrt, Speusipp ( Fr . 41
Lang) ebenso wie Philippus von Opus (V.S. 45B, 36) und Heraklides vom
Pontus (Fr. 49-59 Voss)/ Let us look at the evidence adduced. Speusippus,
frag. 41, reads : cltcj} yap ol irepi rrjs oXrjs ovcrlas Xeyovres axnrcp Enevaiimos

OTTaVLOV TC TO TLpUOV TTOl€t TO 7T€pl TT}v TOV pAo QV \<IipaVt V<X 8* &Kpa KoX &CaT^p<O0€vt .

V.S. 45B, 36 (Aet. ii, 29, 4) says that ‘ certain ' Pythagoreans, icard Tf)v*Api<rro -
T^Xeiov loroptav teal rrjv (PiXtinrov tov ' OttowtIov av6<f)acnv account for eclipses by
the Counter-earth. Heraclides, as Heath (A rist. of Samos 2 75ft.) has proved, did
not anticipate Copernicus ; there is clear and detailed testimony that he held
that the Earth rotates at the centre , while the heavens stand still.

129

40b-c

ROTATION OF THE EARTH

astronomers. Neither the Laws nor the Epinomis has the faintest
suggestion of a Central Fire or of a Counter-earth or of a ninth
circle for the planetary Earth.1

(6) So we come back to the question : Can the Earth have an
axial rotation compatible with the doctrine that day and night are
due to the daily revolution of the fixed stars ? The answer is that
she must rotate on her axis relatively to the stars, in order to
preserve the effect of that daily revolution.

Some writers have failed to notice that the revolution of the
Same is a movement of the World-Soul, which, * everywhere
inwoven from the centre to the extremity of heaven and enveloping
the heaven all round on the outside, revolving upon itself, made
a divine beginning of ceaseless and intelligent life for all time ’ (36E).
Physically, this is that rational movement whereby the entire
spherical body of the world rotates upon its axis (34A). This
movement must not only carry the planets with it (as we have
seen), but extend from the circumference to the centre and therefore
include the Earth.2 If this movement alone existed, it would be
indistinguishable from rest. There would be no change in the
relative positions of any parts of the world's body, and there would
be no day and night.

In the account of the other heavenly gods, Plato has just added,
for the first time, the individual motion of axial rotation, due to
the self-moving souls of stars and planets. The Earth is mentioned
last. Earth too is a god, ‘ a living being divine and everlasting ',
with a self-moving soul, as well as a body. She ought to have the
same property of axial rotation.3 And she needs it, precisely for

1 On the strength of Theophrastus' statement, Mondolfo (L’ infinite* nel
pensiero dei Greci, 329) says that the elderly Plato embraced with the ardour
of a neophyte the system which made the Earth revolve round a Central
Fire, the source of light, of heat, and of motion to the whole universe, and
regarded as of dimensions perhaps greater than those of the earth. Is it
credible that Plato should never mention by far the most important body
in the universe or explain that the Sun no longer held the position, as source
of light and life, which he has in the Republic ?

2 Some modern critics are obsessed by the Aristotelian division of the
world into the heavens above the Moon where the celestial bodies have the
circular movement proper to the ether, and the sublunary region of the
four simple bodies which move in straight lines. This distinction is foreign
to Plato.

8 A passage in the Epinomis mentions a movement of the Earth : * Nothing
can receive a soul in any other way than by the action of God, as we have
proved. And since God can do this, it is the easiest of things for him, first to
put life into any body and the whole of any bulk, and then to make it move
as he has thought best. Now with regard to all these bodies [Sun, Earth, and
all the stars have just been mentioned] I hope that we may truthfully lay
down one conclusion. It is not possible for the earth and heaven and all the

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ROTATION OF THE EARTH

the purpose here mentioned — in order that ‘ winding round the
axis ’ she may be 4 the guardian and maker of day and night \
She must rotate on her axis daily in order not to be carried round
by the movement of the whole. The effect is that in relation to
absolute space she stands still, while in relation to the other makers
of day and night, the fixed stars, she rotates once every twenty-
four hours in the reverse sense. In the planetary theory of the
Pythagoreans Earth rotates on her axis, like the Moon, in order
to keep the same face always turned towards the Central Fire.
In Plato's theory she rotates so as not to keep the same face always
turned towards the same quarter of the revolving heaven. The
two notions lie not far apart. It was easy for Heraclides to take
the next step and make the Earth’s rotation an absolute movement,
not merely relative to the fixed stars. The stars can then stand
still, while Earth rotates absolutely.

This solution of the problem was all but discovered by Martin,
who saw that the Earth must be involved in the revolution of the
whole. ‘ In Plato’s system,’ he wrote, ' in order that Earth may
produce the succession of days and nights, she must resist the
diurnal movement of the universe. To an impulse which would
make her turn upon herself in a day, she must constantly oppose
an equal force in the contrary sense, and remain motionless.’ ' If
Earth had not an individual soul, a Platonist should say, she would
yield without effort to the diurnal motion imparted by the World-
Soul to the entire heaven, and then the succession of days and
nights would not take place. But she has a soul, whose circles,
turning on themselves, give her body a force of rotation contrary
and equal to that which she receives from the Soul of the World,
whose centre she occupies. The complete immobility of the
terrestrial globe is, consequently, the result of two forces of rotation,
whose physical effects annul one another, and one of which belongs
to her intelligent soul.’ 1 It is surprising that, in the same breath,
Martin should dispute Ideler’s assertion that ‘ the present participle
EikloiihY\v (sic.) indicating a continuous action, ought to express
the rotation of the Earth ’, and should argue at length that l%2.ojudvrp>
does not mean any sort of movement, but only that the Earth is
closely wound round the axis, to which she clings (as it were) in
order to resist the movement that would otherwise carry her

stars with all their solid bodies, unless there is a soul attached to each, or
actually in each, to carry out accurately their yearly, monthly and daily
movements . . (983B, trans. Harward). Whoever wrote this must have

thought of Earth as a living creature with a soul and a movement due to
that soul.

1 Martin, ii, 88, 137.

ROTATION OF THE EARTH 40b^c

round.1 On this point, Aristotle's opinion that iMeadai means
movement is to be preferred to that of any modem critic.

It remains to ask, what kind of movement Aristotle understood
by XhXeoQai. It is unfortunate that in his criticism (de caelo ii, 14)
he attacks both the Pythagorean planetary theory and Plato's
winding motion atthe centre simultaneously. Two of his arguments
turn on his own doctrine that the natural movement of earth is in
a straight line towards the centre of the universe ; from which it
follows that both planetary movement and rotation would be
‘ unnatural ', and therefore could not be eternal. Plato, who
attributes axial rotation to all the other heavenly gods by virtue
of the self-moving power of their individual intelligent souls, and
denies them any rectilinear motion, would be unmoved by an argu-
ment which assumes that the divine Earth as a whole must behave
like any ‘ clod ' that is lifted and falls to the ground. Also in his
view the clod falls to Earth because like moves to like ; it does not
fall towards the central point of the universe, as such.

The remaining argument is explicitly aimed at both theories :

‘ Again, everything that moves with the circular movement,
except the first sphere, is observed to be passed, and to move
with more than one motion ' (i.e. all the planets have two motions :
the Same, shared with the fixed stars, and the Different, their
proper motion in the contrary sense about the axis of the Zodiac,
the result of which is that they are passed, or left behind, by the
fixed stars). ‘ The Earth, then, also, whether it move about the
centre or as situated at it, must necessarily move with two
motions. But if this were so, there would have to be passings
and turnings of the fixed stars. Yet no such thing is observed.
The same stars always rise and set in the same parts of the
Earth' (296#, 34 ff.).

As directed against planetary motion, the argument is that Earth,
as a planet, ought to have both the contrary motions. But since
one of these is oblique to the other, the effect would be that the

1 It may be that the recent neglect of Martin's explanation is due to his
denial that tXXofxcvrjv means motion. A.-H. followed Martin in this (‘ globed
round ') and holds that the Earth must be * absolutely motionless ’. He
quotes with approval Martin's view that Earth's soul enables her to resist
rotation on her axis, which would occur if she were lifelessly carried round
with the rotation of the whole. It was the notion that, in order to stay still
relatively to the fixed stars, Earth must ‘ cling ' to a stationary axis, that led
so many ancient authorities (like Martin) to paraphrase lAXofx&nj by a^iyyoiiivu /
and to imagine the axis as if it were, not a mathematical line, but a solid rod
which the Earth could be ‘ packed round ' and * cling ’ to.

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ROTATION OF THE EARTH

pole of the sphere of the fixed stars would appear to describe a
circle in the sky, and the stars would not rise and set as they do.

Simultaneously Aristotle uses this same argument against Plato's
movement at the centre. On this theory, too, he says, the Earth
must have two motions. Let us disentangle this application in
the following dialogue :

Aristotle. The Earth, you say, is situated at the centre and
has a winding motion round the axis of the universe.

Plato. Yes.

Ar. But this motion must be a compound of two motions!
First, there is the motion of the Same, which the Earth will share
as part of the whole body of the world rotating on its own axis.

Pl. Clearly.

Ar. But if that were all, there would be no day or night.
You must have a second motion to counteract the Same and restore
day and night.1

Pl. Exactly. That is why I wrote that the Earth, winding
round the axis, is the guardian of day and night.

Ar. The Earth, then, has two contrary motions. But the
second motion you invoke in the case of the planets is the Different,
and that is oblique to the Same.

Pl. True.

Ar. But if you give the Earth this oblique motion to counteract
the other, the compound of the two will have this effect. The
actual motion of the Earth will be that of a globe fastened to the
axis of a sphere rotating eastwards in the plane of the ecliptic (the
motion of the Different), and having its poles fixed in an outer
sphere (the fixed stars) rotating westwards in the plane of the
equator. The centre of the Earth will always be at the centre of
the universe and of both axes. But the poles of the Earth on the
axis of the ecliptic will describe circles round the axis of the universe.
The effect would be the same as in planetary motion : the pole of
the universe (the pole star) would appear to describe a circle in the
sky, and the fixed stars would not rise and set where they do.
This compound movement of rotation on two axes must be the
‘ winding ' motion you meant by IXXo/jtdvrjv. It is certainly hard to
find a suitable word.

Pl. Your argument is sound, but for one flaw. It rests on the
assumption that the second motion is oblique to the first.2 But
I meant by the second motion, not the motion of the Different

1 Observe that Aristotle does not raise the modern objection that rotation
of the Earth would upset day and night. He must have understood that
Plato gave the Earth two motions in order to preserve day and night.

* This is remarked by Simplicius, de caelo 537, 20-26.

133

ROTATION OF THE EARTH 40b-c

(which I explicitly limited to the seven planetary circles), but a
self-motion of the Earth, whom I regard as a living creature. It

is, like the first, rotation ‘ round the axis of the universe ', not
round the axis of the Zodiac. So it takes place in the same plane
as the first motion — the plane of the equator— and exactly cancels

it. I am sorry that my word ’Mojutvrjv has misled you. But if
I had written axqscpo(xhY\v or any of the other usual expressions for
rotation or revolution, that would have suggested that the Earth,
like the planets and stars and the world as a whole, has an absolute
rotation. Then people less acute than yourself would have supposed
me stupid enough not to see that day and night would' be upset.
So I chose this word ’Mo/uhrjV — the best I could think of — to
describe the Earth ‘ winding ’ or ‘ curling ’ round the axis. Perhaps
it is really more appropriate to that armillary sphere I mentioned
in the next sentence. Imagine the machine which my Demiurge
made out of his strips of soul-stuff. The axis of the universe is a
vertical rod attached at its ends to a vertical (meridian) circle,
which serves to support the horizontal equator and the oblique
circle of the Zodiac or ecliptic. Suppose that all this part of the
apparatus revolves on a pivot in the stand. The Earth is a globe
at the centre. It will be kept stationary by being separately
supported on a hollow pillar fixed to the stand — hollow, so that
the axis rod may turn inside it. The rod passes through a hole in
the Earth globe, so as not to carry the Earth round with it. Now
as the machine revolves, the axis rod turns round inside the hole
through the stationary Earth. But the axis of the universe is
really a mathematical line, which cannot turn round. So I looked
at the thing from the other standpoint and spoke of the Earth
globe as ‘ winding ' or * curling * round a stationary axis. After
all, the Earth has a rotatory movement relatively to the fixed
stars ; and when I added that the purpose of the movement was
to preserve day and night, I assumed that no one could mis-
understand.

At this point Aristotle would perhaps have admitted that his
mind had been confused, partly by his own picture of concentric
spheres, partly by the attempt to criticise simultaneously two
different views of the Earth's motion. He would, however, have
thought Plato sufficiently refuted by his first and third arguments,
resting on his own dogma that the only natural motion of earth
is rectilinear, towards the centre. When earth is actually at the
centre, it can have no motion at all. Plato held that it was at the
centre. It cannot, according to Aristotle, rotate there, because
rotation, being an 4 unnatural ' movement, could not be eternal.
So, whatever motion IkXo/xevrjv might mean, Plato was wrong.

134

FURTHER CELESTIAL MOTIONS

40C-D. The further movements of the heavenly bodies are too com-
plicated for description here

With the creation of Earth the list of the heavenly gods is com-
plete. The astronomical chapter is now closed with the remark
that, without a visible model, all the complicated movements
cannot be described.

40c. To describe the evolutions in the dance of these same gods,
their juxtapositions, the counter-revolutions of their circles
relatively to one another, and their advances ; to tell which
of the gods come into line with one another at their conjunc-
tions, and which in opposition, and in what order they pass
in front of or behind one another, and at what periods of
time they are severally hidden from our sight and again

d. reappearing send to men who cannot calculate panic fears and
signs of things to come — to describe all this without visible
models of these same 1 would be labour spent in vain. So this
much shall suffice on this head, and here let our account of
the nature of the visible and generated gods come to an end.

With this conclusion Plato breaks off his account of the motions
of the heavenly gods. A sphere or orrery would be needed to
illustrate all the complications that result, in particular, from the
changes in the relative positions of the planets, due to their com-
posite motions and differences of speed. ‘ Juxtapositions * (or
‘ comings along-side one another’, naqa^oXai) is explained by Proclus
as the * rising and setting together ’ of two heavenly bodies. The
' counter-revolutions (ijtavaxvxhjaeig) of the (planetary) circles
relatively to one another ’ I understand to refer to (1) the additional
constant movement, contrary to the Different (and to the Moon
and the Sun group), possessed by the outer planets, and (2) the
intermittent retrograde movements of all the planets, except the
Sun and Moon.2 * Advances ’ {TtQoxcoQtfaeig) describes the accelerated

1 avev <tcov ? > 81 oipecos tovtcov avrcov fufnjfiaTWv. avrcov F has the support of
Pr. iii, 14510 (lemma), though Diehl has altered it there to ad twv. For the
insertion of tcov A.-H. appeals toPr. iii, 145 2S, to yap Xcyeiv -nepl tovtcov avev tcov
8t* otpecos pLLfi’qjjLa.Tcov fidraLos cart irdvos > (f>rjoiv avros • Cf. also I49ai> and Theon p.
238, avros j>r)oiv 6 nXdrcov ort to avev tcov 8i* oiftecos puprjpdTajv [tcov] to. rotaura cWActv
ckSiScIctkclv /aoltcuos tt6voS‘ ad tcov yields no tolerable sense (Tr. is not convinced
by his own suggestion) and should be dismissed as simply a case of wrong
division. The opposite error (avrcov for ad tcov) appears to occur at 66a, i.

2 Seepp. 88, no. The phrase is sometimes understood as if cTravcuaMcActadat
were the same as ava/awActaflat ( npds avryv, 37A). So Heath ( Gk . Astr. 55)
translates : * the retumings of their orbits upon themselves ’ (cf. Aristarchus ,
p. viii) . But a model would not be needed to explain that a circle ‘ returns
upon itself '. Pr. (iii, 145*, 14610) read dm/cu^Arjacty, but understood it as
equivalent to V7rono8iop,ol (retrogradations) . Cicero has conuersiones.

135

TABLE OF CELESTIAL MOTIONS 40c-D

forward movement (Ttgonodiajudg) of a planet after retrogradation,
whereby Venus and Mercury overtake the Sun once more, and the
outer planets resume their main proper movement.1 * * The phrase
‘ coming into line with one another * (holt’ &M.rjAovg yiyvofievoi) refers
to the cause of eclipses of the Sun and Moon, with which the rest
of the sentence is concerned. Occult at ions and transits of other
planets are not noticed at all by ' men who cannot calculate ', and
they did not cause panics in the Greek world. The Sun is eclipsed
when he and the Moon are ‘ at their conjunction ' ; the Moon,
when she is ' in opposition ’ ; in both cases the three bodies, Sun,
Moon, and Earth, are 4 in a line with one another ’, but in different
orders : the Moon at her own eclipse passes ‘ behind ' the Earth,
at the eclipse of the Sun, ‘ in front ' of it.

It will be convenient here to give a table of all the celestial
motions mentioned in the Timaeus.

TABLE OF CELESTIAL MOTIONS

A. Motions of the Whole :

Self-motions of the World-Soul :

(1) The Same (37c), imparted as axial rotation to the whole

spherical body from centre to circumference (34A, b,
36e).

(2) The Different, a single motion (36c, 37B, 38c), imparted

to the planets (only) by distribution among seven
circles (36c, d).

B. Motions of Parts :

{a) Individual Stars :

(1) The Same, imparted to each star as a ' forward * motion

of diurnal revolution (40B).

(2) Self-motion : axial rotation (40 a).

(6) The Seven Planets :

(1) The Same, imparted to each planet by the ‘ supremacy *

of the Same (36c, 39 a).

(2) The Different, imparted to each planet as a constituent

of its proper motion on a circular track (the seven
circles, 36c, d).

The composition of these two motions results in the Spiral
Twist (39A).

1 The variant ‘ approachings ’ (Trpoaxcop^aeis) might apply to one planet

nearing another as it hastens to overtake it ; but irpox<opya€is ( = 1

makes a better antithesis to iiravaKVKXrjoeis ( =

136

THE TRADITIONAL GODS

(3) Self-motions :

(a) Axial rotation of each planet (implied at 40 a, b).

( f} ) Differences of speed of the several planets (36D) :
The Moon accelerates the movement of the
Different. The Sun, Venus, Mercury, as a group,
move with the actual speed of the Different, com-
pleting their course in a year. The Sun alone
has the actual motion of the Different unmodi-
fied ; Venus and Mercury modify it by inter-
mittent retrogradation (38D). Mars, Jupiter,
Saturn slow down the movement of the Different
by an additional motion of counter-revolution
(inavaxvxXrjGiQ 40c). These are the three circles
with a motion contrary to the Different and to
the remaining four (36D).

(y) Retrogradation of all planets, except Sun and
Moon : This is the ‘ contrary tendency ’ ( bavxia
dvva/LUi;, 38D) explicitly ascribed to Venus and
Mercury, but also shared by Mars, Jupiter,
Saturn. It involves variations in the speed of
each planet, and intermittent counter-revolution
accelerated to the point of bringing the main
motion to a stand and temporarily reversing its
sense.

(None of these self-motions distorts in any way
the circular track of the planet's proper motion.
So the planets do not ‘ stray ' from one path to
another, Laws 821, Epin . 982c.)

(1) The Same, imparted to Earth as part of the whole body

of the world rotating on its axis (34A, 36E).

(2) Self-motion : axial rotation at the centre, relatively to

the fixed stars, counteracting the imparted motion of

the Same (40B).

THE HUMAN SOUL AND BODY

40D-41A. The traditional Gods

The celestial gods, living beings whose intelligent souls have
voluntary motions, are now enshrined in the system of circular
movements provided by the self-moving power of the World-Soul.
The celestial mechanism is finished ; but there remain three other
classes of living creatures, ‘ which intelligence discerns contained in

137

THE TRADITIONAL GODS

40d-41a

the Living Creature that truly is ’ (39E). These are neither gods
nor everlasting, but subject to birth, change, and death, in the
inferior regions of air, water, and earth. The making of them is,
accordingly, now to be delegated to the created gods, whose handi-
work will not be indissoluble, like that of the Demiurge himself.
Before proceeding to this next stage, Plato finds it necessary to
make some mention of the anthropomorphic gods of traditional
religion.

40D. As concerning the other divinities, to know and to declare
their generation is too high a task for us ; we must trust
those who have declared it in former times : being, as they
said, descendants of gods, they must, no doubt, have had
certain knowledge of their own ancestors. We cannot, then,
mistrust the children of gods, though they speak without
e. probable or necessary proofs ; when they profess to report
their family history, we must follow established usage and
accept what they say. Let us, then, take on their word this
account of the generation of these gods. As children of
Earth and Heaven were born Oceanus and Tethys ; and of
these Phorkys and Cronos and Rhea and all their company ;
41. and of Cronos and Rhea, Zeus and Hera and all their brothers
and sisters whose names we know ; and of these yet other
offspring.

Plato has given his own ‘ likely account ' of the creation of the
celestial gods. The authors of the theogonies attributed to Orpheus,
Musaeus, and other descendants of the Olympian gods, had professed
to speak with knowledge, but had not given even probable, much
less necessary, proofs of their assertions.1 In an earlier dialogue
Plato had not hesitated to make Socrates echo the famous saying
of Protagoras in the remark : ‘ We know nothing about the gods —
neither about the gods themselves nor about the names they may
call one another by ' (Crat. 400D). If Protagoras had scandalised
the contemporaries of Pericles, the Athenians of fifty years later,
who had assimilated the plays of Euripides, were perhaps no longer
to be shocked. But Plato stops short at the agnostic position
which may well have been taken up by Socrates himself ; he does
not flatly deny that the traditional gods exist. In the Phaedrus
again (246c) Socrates says that to speak of an ‘ immortal living
creature \ compact of soul and body, has no ground in any principle
of reason. 4 We have never seen a god or adequately conceived

1 The Theogonies are again dismissed at Laws 886c as hard to censure
because of their antiquity, but certainly false and unhelpful with respect to
the honour due to parents. The same view is expressed at Epin. 988c.

138

THE ADDRESS TO THE GODS

one, but we imagine (nMrrojuev) him as a kind of immortal living
creature possessing both a soul and a body combined in a unity
which is to last for ever.’ 1 This does not apply to the celestial
gods of the Timaeus, whom we can see ; it means that we have
no evidence in reasoning or in perception for the existence of gods
in human form. But if we reject the human form and the mythical
genealogies, it does not follow that we must deny altogether any
invisible beings answering to the divinities of recognised belief.
The Epinomis (984D), like the Timaeus , lays emphasis on the
divinity of the visible celestial gods ; but it adds invisible spirits
in the air and spirits sometimes visible in water, so that the heaven
may be completely filled with living beings. Mankind has come
into touch with these real beings, perhaps in visions, dreams,
prophecies, or clairvoyance at the hour of death ; and hence have
arisen beliefs in individuals and in States and widespread forms of
worship. No wise lawgiver will wish to innovate here pr * turn
away his own State to a form of piety which has no certainty ; he
will not prevent men from obeying traditional laws about sacrifices,
seeing that he has no knowledge at all about them, as in fact it is
not possible for our mortal nature to have knowledge about such
matters \ He ought, however, to insist on the worship of the
visible gods as well. The attitude towards the traditional gods is
still that of an agnostic, not of an atheist. There is no reason to
question its sincerity or to suggest that Plato is hedging in order
to escape a criminal charge of impiety. The irony in our passage
is aimed, not at the pious beliefs of the common man, but at the
pretensions of ‘ theologians ' to know the family history of anthropo-
morphic deities.2

41A-D. The address to the gods

The speech in which the Demiurge now delegates the task of
making inferior living creatures, is addressed to all the visible gods
as well as to those invisible powers which reveal themselves, in so
far as they will, and thereby occasion the current beliefs in the
deities of tradition.

41A. Be that as it may, when all the gods had come to birth —
both all that revolve before our eyes and all that reveal
themselves in so far as they will — the author of this universe
addressed them in these words :

1 Cf. Laws 904A avwXedpov Si ov y€v6p.€vov, aAA* ovk alcbviov, 1
Kadanep ot Kara vofiov omes deot.

2 Cf. the judicious remarks of Mr. W. K. C. Guthrie in his excellent book,
Orpheus and Greek Religion (19 35), p. 240.

139

THE ADDRESS TO THE GODS 41a-d

41A. Gods,1 of gods whereof I am the maker and of works the
father, those which are my own handiwork are indissoluble,
save with my consent. Now, although whatsoever bond2 *
B. has been fastened may be unloosed, yet only an evil will
could consent to dissolve what has been well fitted together
and is in a good state ; therefore, although you, having come
into being, are not immortal nor indissoluble altogether,
nevertheless you shall not be dissolved nor taste of death,
finding my will a bond yet stronger and more sovereign than
those wherewith you were bound together when you came
to be.

' Now, therefore, take heed to this that I declare to you.
There are yet left mortal creatures of three kinds that have
not been brought into being. If these be not bom, the
Heaven will be imperfect ; for it will not contain all the
c. kinds of living being, as it must if it is to be perfect and
complete. But if I myself gave them birth and life, they
would be equal to gods. In order, then, that mortal things
may exist and this All may be truly all, turn according to
your own nature to the making of living creatures, imitating
my power in generating you. In so far as it is fitting that
something in them should share the name of the immortals,
being called divine and ruling over those among them who
at any time are willing to follow after righteousness and after
you — that part, having sown it as seed and made a beginning,
D. I will hand over to you. For the rest, do you, weaving
mortal to immortal, make living beings ; bring them to birth,
feed them, and cause them to grow ; and when they fail,
receive them back again/

If the slight correction I have proposed in the first sentence of
this address be accepted, the sense is satisfactory. 4 Gods and works
whereof I am father and maker ’ means the whole universe, of which
the Demiurge has been called maker and father at 28c and just
above (41 a). Among all these creatures, those which have so far
been described — the body and soul of the living world and the
heavenly gods — are 4 my own handiwork ' ; and these, we are now
told, are indissoluble save with their maker's consent. That con-
sent, it is added, will never in fact be given ; hence the created

1 Reading OeoC, Oetov tSv eyw Srjfjuovpyds vaTijp r cpyatv ra (for a) Si* efiov yevofieva

aXvra ifxov ye pr) eOeXovros.. This conjecture and other interpretations are
discussed in the Appendix (p. 367).

* The ‘ living bonds ’ connecting the souls and bodies of the celestial gods,
mentioned at 38E.

I40

THE ADDRESS TO THE GODS

gods are everlasting and can never die.1 But the world, as a
living creature that must embrace all kinds of lesser living creatures,
is not yet complete. The mortal kinds must now be added, and
since they are to die, they must be made indirectly through the
agency of the created gods. The Demiurge himself will supply only
the immortal element of the human soul.

This delegation of the rest of the work to the celestial gods may
perhaps be connected with the notion that the heavenly bodies,
especially the Sun, are active in generating life on the Earth. The
male, says Aristotle, is that which generates in another, the female
that which generates in itself ; hence in the universe also men call
the Earth female and mother, and speak of the Heaven and the
Sun or some other such thing as begetters and fathers 2 (de gen.
anim. 716 a, 14). In the Republic vi the Sun is singled out among
the heavenly gods as * the offspring of the Good which most
resembles his parent \ He is the cause of the birth, growth, and
nourishment of things in the visible world (509B). Aristotle
elaborates the doctrine that the cause of coming to be and passing
away is not the revolution of the First Heaven, but the annual
movement of the Sun in the ecliptic or zodiac circle. This motion
of ‘ the generator ' is a compound of two motions. It includes the
motion imparted by the revolution of the First Heaven (Plato’s
motion of the Same) : this secures that coming to be shall be
perpetual. The other motion in the reverse sense along the ecliptic,
by causing the Sun to approach and retreat alternately, provides
that generation shall alternate with decay, birth with death. If
we were right in supposing that the annual motion of the Sun
actually is the motion of the Different, unmodified in the Sun’s
case and variously retarded or accelerated by the other planets,
Aristotle’s explanation fits Plato’s scheme. The activity of the
created gods in making perishable things can be associated with the
combined motions of the fixed stars (the Same) and of the planets
(the Different).

The only mortal creatures whose making will be described in
detail are human beings. Timaeus’ task was at the outset defined
as * ending with the birth of mankind ’. Even the plants on which
man is to feed are not mentioned till far on at 77A. The lower
animals are dealt with very briefly at the end (91 d) and treated

1 The Epinomis 982A says that ‘ opinion ’ must assign to the stars one of
two destinies : either they are wholly indestructible and divine by aU
necessity, or each has a length of life sufficient to him and of such duration
that no longer span could ever be required.

* Cf. Soph., frag. 752P, *H\t€ . . . <ov oi> oo<f> ol A cyovcri ycwrjrrjv dc&v <koI>
iraripa Travnav.

p.c. 141

COMPOSITION OF HUMAN SOULS 41d-42d

only as degraded forms suitable for the reincarnation of men who
have lived unwisely. The physical differences between men and
women are postponed to the same context (90E ff.), because they
are irrelevant to the whole account of our common human nature
which fills most of the remaining discourse. Plato does not mean
that men ever existed without women and the lower animals.

41D-42D. The composition of human souls . The Laws of Destiny

The Demiurge next fulfils his promise to fashion with his own
hands the immortal part of the individual souls which are to be
incarnated first in human form. They are composed of what was
left of the original ingredients used to compound the World-Soul,
namely the intermediate kinds of Existence, Sameness, and
Difference (35 a).1

41D. Having said this, he turned 2 once more to the same mixing
bowl wherein he had mixed and blended the soul of the
universe, and poured into it what was left of the former
ingredients, blending them this time 3 * * * * 8 in somewhat the same
way, only no longer so pure as before, but second or third in
degree of purity. And when he had compounded the whole,
he divided it into souls equal in number with the stars, and

E. distributed them, each soul to its several star.

The human soul, no less than the World-Soul, must be so composed
as to be like the objects it is to know, and it must possess the
faculties of intelligence and knowledge, opinion and belief (37A-C).
It is assumed later (43D), though not mentioned here, that its
substance is divided into the ratios of the same harmonia, and
given the motions of the Same and the Different. Human souls

1 So Pr. here (iii, 25418) : * Soul is a substance intermediate between the

substance that has real Being and Becoming, being a compound of the inter-
mediate kinds.’

* Reading koX ttoXip cm top "nporepop <la>v or rperropievos > Kparrjpa. Anyone
reading the words as they stand in the MSS. would expect rpcnopievos or its
equivalent to follow, not /carc^cfro ; Karex^lro cm top Kparrjpa is not Greek

for ‘ poured into the bowl Cf. above rpeneode cm rqp rcov ^cocov Brjfuovpytav

(41c). Pr. evidently felt this (though he had our text), for he writes ciVorra

•yap top Srjfuovpyov evdvs irrl top Kparrjpa rperrei (6 A oyos). I conjectured <lojp>,

but Professor Robertson points out to me that rperropicpos has many letters in
common with rrporepop and might easily disappear after it.

8 I suggest Kardyei (cf. Ar., Plut. 102 1, evicts) to<tc> p.Loytov. I can see no
sufficient justification for the middle Karax^laQai, which is correctly used at
Laws 637E, Kara twp Ifxariwp Karax^opicpoL, f letting it pour down over their gar-
ments *. The active occurs at Rep. 398 A, fivpop Kara rrjs Ke<j>aXrjs Karaxeavres
and Ar., Ach . 1127, Karapet nal, tovXoiop. For t ore = ' now cf. 37E, 2,
43C, 7-

142

THE LAWS OF DESTINY

are inferior, because they can do wrong of their own wills. # Second
or third in degree of purity/ if it does not mean ' second or even
worse ’, may refer to the superiority of man’s soul over woman’s
(42A)-

The souls are equal in number to the stars, among which they
are distributed, one to each star. ( The * sowing ’ into the planets
comes later.) There is no reason to doubt the obvious meaning
of these words : that there are just as many individual souls as
there are stars, whose number must be finite. But in all this
section of the dialogue the veil of myth grows thicker again, and
it is useless to discuss problems that would arise only if the state-
ments were meant literally.

41E. There mounting them as it were in chariots, he showed them
the nature of the universe and declared to them the laws of
Destiny.1 There would be appointed a first incarnation one
and the same for all, that none might suffer disadvantage at
his hands ; and they were to be sown into the instruments
of time, each one into that which was meet for it, and to
42. be bom as the most god-fearing of living creatures ; and
human nature being twofold, the better sort was that which
should thereafter be called * man ’.

Whensoever, therefore, they should of necessity 2 have
been implanted in bodies, and of their bodies some part
should always be coming in and some part passing out,
there must needs be innate in them, first, sensation, the same
for all, arising from violent impressions ; second, desire
blended with pleasure and pain, and besides these fear and

b. anger and all the feelings that accompany these and all that
are of a contrary nature : and if they should master these
passions, they would live in righteousness ; if they were
mastered by them, in unrighteousness.

1 vopovs rovs tlpapixivovS' Cf. Laws 904c (referring to the promotion and
degradation of souls according to character) : Whatever has soul contains in
itself the cause of change and in changing moves from place to place according
to the disposition and law of Destiny ' (Kara rijv rijs elpiapiiivqs ra£iv koX vopLov).

2 A.-H. notes the recurrent references to Necessity in this sentence : 4( avdytcqs
. . . avayKalov c? rj . . . fhalcov TiaOripLaruiv, echoed in the parallel passage
(69c, d) where the created gods, after the long intervening section on ‘ What
happens of Necessity ’, fashion the mortal soul : to dvrjrov, Sciv a #cai dvayKala
iv iavrtp vadrjpLara c^ov . . . ouyKcpaoapLCvoi ravra avayKaicos . . . ori prj rraaa fjv
dvdytcrj. All the feelings and emotions mentioned come under the term aesthesis
in its widest sense ( Theaet . 156B), and have bodily concomitants. Aesthesis
in the narrower sense was not present in the World-Soul, whose body has no
organs of sense or nourishment and cannot be attacked by any ' strong
powers * from without (33A-D).

143

41d~42d

THE LAWS OF DESTINY

42B. And he who should live well for his due span of time
should journey back to the habitation of his consort star
and there live a happy and congenial life 1 ; but failing of
this, he should shift at his second birth into a woman ;

c. and if in this condition he still did not cease from wickedness,
then according to the character of his depravation, he should
constantly be changed into some beast of a nature resembling
the formation of that character, and should have no rest
from the travail of these changes, until letting the revolution
of the Same and uniform within himself draw into its train 2
all that turmoil of fire and water and air and earth that had
later grown about it, he should control its irrational turbulence

d. by discourse of reason and return once more to the form of
his first and best condition.

The souls are set in the stars ‘ as it were in chariots ', an image
intended to recall the procession of the gods in the Phaedrus , where
the soul-chariots are taken round the outside of the heaven, and
the charioteers are vouchsafed a vision of the realm of Forms.
Here they are shown * the nature of the universe \ Such knowledge
of reality as they will acquire in earthly life will be gained by
Recollection {Anamnesis). They are also taught the laws of their
own destiny, as the souls in the Myth of Er, between their incarna-
tions, hear the discourse of Lachesis, daughter of Necessity. The
chief lesson, here as there, is that the soul is responsible for any evil
that it may suffer. Proclus reproduces the genuinely Socratic
doctrine that moral evil is the only real evil : ‘ neither disease nor
poverty nor any other such thing is really an evil, but only wicked-
ness of the soul, intemperance, cowardice, and vice in general ;
and we are responsible for bringing these upon ourselves ' (iii, 31318).

1 In Pindar, 01. ii, and Phaedrus, 249A, the soul which has kept pure for
three lives finally escapes from the wheel of reincarnation. The present
passage might mean this, or that the soul waits on its star before being
reincarnated as man. So Pindar provides a paradise where good souls,
between their incarnations, ‘ spend a life free from tears in the presence of
gods high in honour ' (01. ii, 65) . The hiatus ovvydrj e£oi suggests that kcu
awjdr) should be omitted with FY. Stob. Cf. note on 20A.

a ow€ma7rd>n€vos. The rational revolution in the human soul’s movements
is to establish its supremacy over the irrational motions, as the Same in the
World-Soul has supremacy ( Kparos ) over the circles of the Different (36c).
Cf. 44A, where the revolutions assailed by sensations from without, which
* draw in their train ' (avvtmairdawvTai) the whole vessel of the soul, only seem
to be in control (Kparciv) . Plut., PI. Qu. 1003 a, v°v pcreXafo koX

apfiovlas, kcu ycvopdvrj Bid ovpufuovias €puf>p<ov p^rafioXrjs atria yiyovt rfj vXfl KaX
Kpa'rqaaaa rats avrrjs Kivffatoi ray c Keivrjs iirccnrdoaro #cat iiriarpetpev . . . The word
rrpootjtvvTa recalls the comparison of the incarnate soul to the image of Glaucus
encrusted with shells and seaweed (7rpoo7rc<l>vK4vcu, Rep. 61 id).

144

THE LAWS OF DESTINY

In the Phaedrus (248D), it is a law of Adrasteia that no soul shall
be implanted in the form of a beast * at its first birth \ So here
all the souls are to start on their course in human form, the better
as men, the worse as women.1 We need not understand that there
were no women until the bad men of the first generation began to
die and to be reincarnated in female form, but only that a bad
man will be reborn as a woman, a bad woman presumably as a
beast. In the Laws (721c) the Athenian says that ‘ the race of
man is twin-born with all Time, which it accompanies and shall
accompany all through,2 being in this way immortal : by leaving
children's children and existing always one and the same, it partakes
of immortality by means of generation \ Since Time itself has no
beginning or end, the human race must have always existed.
Proclus 3 took this to be Plato’s view. He appeals to Laws 676B,
where the Athenian speaks of the unlimited length of time, in which
* myriads upon myriads ' of States must have come into existence
and perished, and no one could ascertain any date at which mankind
began to live in cities. The world, says Proclus elsewhere (iii, 282),
had no beginning in time. If it had had a beginning, then some
soul would have been the first to descend to its incarnation. But
since there was none, male and female must always exist, and all
that is meant is that every soul that is at any time incarnated for
the first time, is incarnated in male form. The soul, mankind, and
the universe are all ' ungenerated ' in the sense of having no
beginning in time, though ‘ generated * in the sense of being in the
realm of temporal becoming (i, 287 ; iii, 294). At Laws 781E,

1 There is nothing in the text here to suggest that the first living creatures

are ‘ without sex-differences, the differentiation of the sexes and the infra-
human species coming about later by a kind of “ evolution by degeneration ' "
(Tr., p. 258). The latter statements are founded on 90E ff. where Plato says
that those who were born as men (not sexless creatures) , if they lived ill, were
reborn as women at their second incarnation (as he says here, 42B). ‘ Also at

that time they fashioned Eros, ' and the physiological apparatus of sex in both
men and women is described. In our passage the first generation of men have
€po)s (42 a, 7), an element in the mortal soul which the created gods proceed
to make at 69c. There is nowhere in the Timaeus any mention of sexless
creatures. As I have suggested, the physical differences of the sexes are
postponed to a sort of appendix at the end because all that will be said in the
interval applies equally to men and women.

2 This passage illustrates Norden’s remark: Die Vorstellung, dass der xpovos,
als Begleiter des Menschen gedacht, mit ihm geboren wird und mit ihm altert,
ist in dem Hellenentum gelatifig (Die Geburt des Kindes (1924), p. 44).

8 i, 288, cc 8e dec ye vo? e’crrtv avdpdmajv, k<u to tt&v avayKalov aihiov xmapx^v. So
Oc. Luc. iii argues that the main parts of the cosmos must always exist,
including man : avaytaj to y^vo? ru>v avdpdnrwv aihiov efvai. Diodorus i, 6, 3,
remarks that those physicists who make the world ungenerated and imperish-
able say that the human race has existed from all eternity.

145

SOULS SOWN IN PLANETS 42d-e

however, Plato leaves open the alternatives that either the human
race always has been and always will be, or it must have existed
for an incalculable length of time. In any case, the details of the
mythical story here are not to be taken literally.

42D-E. Human souls sown in Earth and the planets

After the journey in their star chariots, the immortal souls are
next sown like seed in the planets and committed to the care of
the created gods. Only the immortal element in the soul, as the
immediate creation of the Demiurge, is indissoluble. The subordin-
ate divinities must add the body and those mortal parts of the soul
which temporary association with the body entails.

42D. When he had delivered to them all these ordinances, to the
end that he might be guiltless of the future wickedness of
any one of them, he sowed them, some in the Earth, some in
the Moon, some in all the other instruments of time. After
this sowing he left it to the newly made gods to mould mortal
bodies, to fashion all that part of a human soul that there
was still need to add and all that these things entail, and

E. to govern 1 and guide the mortal creature to the best of
their powers, save in so far as it should be a cause of evil
to itself.

In the machinery of the myth, it is natural to suppose that the
first generation of souls is sown on Earth, the rest await their turn,
unembodied, on the planets.2 The sowing of the immortal souls in
the Earth and the planets, the instruments of Time, may symbolise
that the soul possesses that intermediate kind of existence which
partakes both of real being and of becoming. The soul is subject
to Time and change ; and her earthly life is spent in the region
where the government of Reason is conditioned by Necessity. She

1 The comma after dpxeiv should be omitted. A.-H. prints it, but rightly
ignores it in his translation.

2 So Chalcidius, p. 241. I cannot see why this notion is ‘ foolish \ as Tr.

calls it (p. 259). Some of the ancients who thought the moon was composed
of earth imagined that it might be inhabited (or at least habitable, as
Anaxagoras said : does not necessarily mean actually inhabited).

Tr. produces no evidence that anyone regarded any other planet as habitable
by men, except a statement by Chalcidius that Pythagoras believed that
men exist on all the planets, though Plato does not. (At Pr. iii, 280, orotic la
does not mean ‘ planets ' but ‘ elements ', as elsewhere in the commentary.)
Plato, who speaks of all the heavenly gods (including all the planets, as I have
argued, p. 118) as mainly composed of fire, was not likely to think of men
living on them. Did any ancient ever hold that men lived in the Sun ?
Cf. Guthrie, Orpheus and Gk. Relig., pp. 232, 247, note 10, for Anaxagoras
and the Orphic belief in an inhabited Moon.

146

THE SOUL IN INFANCY

will be subject to the ' violent ’ assaults of the corporeal environ-
ment. If she does not reduce to order the consequent turbulence
in the bodily members, the fault will be her own. Her will is free,
to follow after righteousness and the created gods (dixy xal $ pitv
Sneadai, 41c), whose guidance is revealed to her eyes in the orderly
revolutions of the heavens.

42E-44D. The condition of the soul when newly incarnated

How the gods established the mortal parts of the soul and framed
the body it was to inhabit will be described in detail later, in the
third section of the dialogue (69A ff.). The whole account, in the
second section, of the structure and behaviour of the primary bodies
and of the physical processes of sensation and perception will have
intervened. For the present we are concerned only with the
picture of the immortal principle of reason, made by the Demiurge
himself, plunged for the first time into the turbulent tide of bodily
sensation and nutrition. The mythical machinery of the soul
circles is woven into an account of infant psychology with an
imaginative power that few other writers could equal. The whole
leads up to the central problem of human life, the establishment of
rational control over the bodily nature.

We are here approaching the stage at which the works of Reason
will give place to 4 what happens of Necessity \ The ‘ errant
cause ’ begins to come into view, with factors in the economy of the
visible world that are not the creatures of divine purpose but limit
the conditions under which Reason must operate. The language
hints at a certain analogy between the task of the human reason
and the task of the Demiurge himself, who ' took Over all that was
visible, not at rest but in discordant and unordered motion, and
brought it from disorder into order * (30A). But the World-Soul
was not exposed to the invasion of violent affections from without,
such as beset every new-born soul of man.

42E. When he had made all these dispositions, he continued to
abide by the wont of his own nature 1 ; and meanwhile his
sons took heed to their father’s ordinance and set about
obeying it. Having received the immortal principle of a
mortal creature, imitating their own maker, they borrowed
from the world portions of fire and earth, water and air, on
43. condition that these loans should be repaid, and cemented

1 efievev is hard to render. The word does not mean rest or cessation of
activity (contrast Gen. ii, I, Kareiravae rfj rjfityq- rj} efiSofifl airo iravraiv rtov cpycuv
avrov ) : 40B, the stars arp€<j>6ix€va fxcvei. The meaning seems to be that the
Demiurge left these further operations to the created gods, confining himself
to his own proper activity.

147

THE SOUL IN INFANCY

42e-44d

43. together what they took, not with the indissoluble bonds
whereby they were themselves held together, but welding
them with a multitude of rivets too small to be seen and so
making each body a unity of all the portions. And they
confined the circuits of the immortal soul within the flowing
and ebbing tide of the body.

These circuits, being thus confined in a strong river,
neither controlled it nor were controlled, but caused and
suffered violent motions ; so that the whole creature moved,

b. but advanced at hazard without order or method, having all
the six motions ; for they went forward and backward, and
again to right and left, and up and down, straying every way
in all the six directions.1 For strong as was the tide that
brought them nourishment, flooding them and ebbing away,

t a yet greater tumult was caused by the qualities 2 of the
things that assailed them, when some creature’s body chanced

c. to encounter alien fire from outside, or solid concretion of
earth and softly gliding waters, or was overtaken by the
blast of air-borne winds, and the motions caused by all these
things passed through the body to the soul and assailed it.
(For this reason these motions were later called by the name
they still bear — 4 sensations ’).3 And so at the moment we
speak of, causing for the time being a strong and widespread
commotion and joining with that perpetually streaming

d. current in stirring and violently shaking the circuits of the
soul, they completely hampered the revolution of the Same
by flowing counter to it and stopped it from going on its
way and governing 4 ; and they dislocated the revolution of

1 ndvTj) Kara rovs c£ tottovs nXavaifieva. Contrast the World’s spherical body
which the Demiurge made without ‘ all the other six motions, giving it no
part in their wanderings ' (dvAavcs, 3 4 a) . The stars (anXa vrj) have orbital revolu-
tion ‘ forwards but not the other five motions (40B). Later we shall hear
of the Errant Cause (1 nXavajfxevrj alria) and of the motions it causes (48A).
The human soul, as self-moved, has its own revolutions ; but these are dis-
organised by motions originated by bodies acting on it, through its own body,
from outside. We next hear of two elements of cognition — sensations and
false judgments, which did not occur in the World-Soul (37A-C). Not only
are the creature’s bodily movements erratic, but all processes of rational
thought are thrown out of gear.

2 iradjuara can mean ‘ affections ’ of the sentient body, causing sensation
in the soul, as at 42A, a laOrjcnv £k (Utaltov iradTj^arcov, or the perceptible ‘ quali-
ties ’ of external bodies, as here and at 61 c.

8 Pr. iii, 332, suggests that Plato connected the word a toQrjtns either with
diaQix) (dvfxov dioOeiv, ‘ breathe out ", Horn. So Etym. Mag.) or with dloou>

* rush '. The latter seems more probable. In Plato’s view both sensations
and qualities are movements, Theaet. 156.

4 The higher faculty of reason is put completely out of action.

148

THE SOUL IN INFANCY

43d- the Different. Accordingly, the intervals of the double and
the triple,1 three of each sort, and the connecting means of
the ratios, -f and f and f, since they could not be completely
dissolved save by him who bound them together, were
e. twisted by them in all manner of ways, and all possible
infractions and deformations of the circles were caused ; so
that they barely held together, and though they moved, their
motion was unregulated, now reversed, now side-long, now
inverted. It was as when a man stands on his head, resting
it on the earth, and holds his feet aloft by thrusting them
against something : in such a case right and left both of the
man and of the spectators appear reversed to the other
party.2 The same and similar effects are produced with
great intensity in the soul’s revolutions ; and when they
44. meet with something outside that falls under the Same or
the Different, they speak of it as the same as this or different
from that contrary to the true facts, and show themselves
mistaken and foolish. Also 3 at such times no one revolution
among their number is acting as governor or guide ; but
whatever revolutions are assailed by certain sensations
coming from without, which draw in their train at the same
time the whole vessel of the soul,4 5 at such times only seem to
be in control, whereas really they are overpowered. It is,
indeed, because of these affections that to-day, as in the
beginning, a soul comes to be without intelligence at first,
b. when it is bound in a mortal body.6

1 The first mention of the harmonic intervals as present in the individual
soul. They stand for that harmony and Koafjuorrjs which need to be re-estab-
lished by contemplation of the kindred harmony of the World-Soul, revealed
in the heavenly revolutions (47B, c).

2 Correctly translated and explained by A.-H. (except that avco should be
taken with exv) ' * it A and B stand face to face, B’s right is of course opposite
A’s left. But if A stand on his head, still facing B, then B’s right will be
opposite A’s right ; the normal relation being inverted/ irpoapaX<bv npos rm
can only mean ‘ thrusting his feet (so that they rest) against some support \

8 This clause goes with what follows ; it refers to lack of control over
behaviour. An infant's earliest actions are determined not by judgment or
thought or will, but mechanically by 4 motions ' of sensation rushing in from
without and sweeping with them the motions of the soul. Its behaviour only
looks like voluntary self-motion. Martin and others forget that all this refers
to infancy, not to the enslavement of reason by passion in later life.

* koX to tt}s airav kotos, the whole body which contains the soul, as

weU as (kcu) the revolutions of the soul itself.

5 The whole description applies to every new-born baby's soul, not only
to the first generation of mankind. Contrast the World-Soul, which, as soon
as it was joined with its body, began an 4 intelligent life ' (e^pcav ftios, 3^E)»
not being exposed to external assaults.

149

STRUCTURE OF HUMAN BODY 44d-45b

44B. But when the current of growth and nutriment flows in
less strongly, and the revolutions, taking advantage of the
calm, once more go their own way and become yet more
settled as time goes on, thenceforward the revolutions are
corrected to the form that belongs to the several circles in
their natural motion ; and giving their right names to what
is different and to what is the same, they set their possessor
in the way to become rational. And now if some right
nurture lends help towards education,1 he becomes entirely

c. whole and unblemished, having escaped the worst of maladies ;
whereas if he be neglectful, he journeys through a life halt
and maimed and comes back to Hades uninitiate and without
understanding.2

These things, however, come to pass at a later stage.
Our present subject must be treated in more detail ; and its
preliminaries, concerning the generation of bodies, part by
part, and concerning soul, and the reasons and forethought of

d. the gods in producing them — of all this we must go on to tell,
on the principle of holding fast to the most likely account.

44D-45B. Structure of the human body : head and limbs

The matter in hand, to which Timaeus now returns, is the
implanting of souls in bodies possessed of sense-organs and of all
the feelings and emotions that accompany sense (42A). The first
duty of the gods is to provide a residence for the immortal part of
the soul, which they have just received from the hands of the
Demiurge. We have not yet come to the addition of the two
mortal parts of the soul (69c). So the body is here regarded as
consisting of the head, which houses the immortal, rational part,
and an apparatus of limbs to carry the head about, together with
the organs of sight to direct its movements.

44D. Copying the round shape of the universe, they confined the
two divine revolutions in a spherical body — the head, as we
now call it — which is the divinest part of us and lord over
all the rest. To this the gods gave the whole body, when
they had assembled it, for its service, perceiving that it

1 Cf. 47c : the observation of the unperturbed revolutions of the heavens
will lead to philosophy, and we shall learn ' to reproduce the perfectly unerring
( airXavcts ) revolutions of the god (the Heaven) and reduce to settled order the
wandering ( ^Xavcufidvas ) motions in ourselves ’. Cf. 90D, and 87B, 81a rpo^ijs

Kai €7TLT7)h€VfxdTOJV fia07]fxdTOJV T€.

2 Plato uses terms borrowed from Mystery ritual. A.-H. compares Phaedrus
250c, Laws 759c (oXokXtjpos) , and Dem., de cor. 259, c<j>vyov kclkov, etpov dpLcwov.
Cf. also Phaedrus 248B, dreXrjs rrjs Ocas ; Gorg. 469B, tovs avoijrovs apudjrovs.

150

THE MECHANISM OF VISION

44D. possessed all the motions that were to be.1 Accordingly,
that the head might not roll upon the ground with its heights

E. and hollows of all sorts, and have no means to surmount
the one or to climb out of the other, they gave it the body
as a vehicle for ease of travel ; that is why the body is
elongated and grew four limbs that can be stretched out or
bent, the god contriving thus for its travelling. Clinging
and supporting itself with these limbs, it is able to make its
45. way through every region,2 carrying at the top of us the
habitation of the most divine and sacred part. Thus and
for these reasons legs and arms grow upon us all.3 And the
gods, holding that the front is more honourable and fit to
lead than the back, gave us movement for the most part in
that direction. So man must needs have the front of the
body distinguished and unlike the back ; so first they set
the face on the globe of the head on that side and fixed in

b. it organs for all the forethought of the soul, and appointed
this, our natural front, to be the part having leadership.

This description of the human body has the same oddly archaic
character as that of the World's body at 33A-34A ; but it is hard
for a modern reader to gauge the effect. Many passages in Sir
Thomas Browne strike us as ‘ quaint ' or funny, that may not have
seemed so to his contemporaries. The evidences of design in the
human body were a serious matter to Plato. A more systematic
account of the body’s structure will be given in the third section
of the dialogue. This paragraph is mainly intended to compare and
contrast the human body and its motions with the body and
motions of the universe.

45B-46A. The eyes and the mechanism of vision

Plato singles out the sense of sight, first because it is useful for
locomotion, and secondly because sight and hearing, which will
presently be added, are the two senses which above all reveal the

1 The bodies of the universe and of the created gods possessed only rotation
and orbital revolution — the rational motions. Inferior creatures have all the
six rectilinear motions proper to the primary bodies, portions of which are
* assembled ’ to compose their bodies.

* The six regions ( tottoi ) of 43B, answering to the six motions (34A) * up
and down \ * forward and backward 4 right and left which the World's
body has not.

3 7 Tpoa€(f)v Ttaoiv. TTaoiv is at least superfluous ; why ‘ all ' — as if some of us
might be expected to do without arms and legs ? It is, accordingly, tempting
to conjecture TTpocnretfiVKacnv, which removes the very unusual construction
of the singular n pootyv. Chalcidius ignores rraaiv : addita est crurum quoque
et brachiorum porrigibilis et flexuosa substantia ; but his version is loose.

THE MECHANISM OF VISION 45b-46a

harmony of the world.1 He begins with the bodily mechanism of
vision, for the sake of leading up to the contrast between these
‘ secondary causes 1 and the true reason or purpose, which is that
man may learn number by seeing the heavenly bodies and so pass
on through the sciences of number to all philosophy.

The mechanism of vision involves three kinds of ‘ fire ' or light.
(Several varieties of fire will be enumerated at 58c.) These are :
(1) Daylight, a body of pure fire diffused in the air by the Sun.
This (like (2)) is ' pure not admixed with other primary bodies.
At 58c it is contrasted with flame (<pAo'f ) as * that which flows off
from flame, and does not bum but gives light to the eyes \ (2) The
visual current, a pure fire of the same kind as daylight, contained
in the eye-ball and capable of issuing out in a stream directed
towards the object seen. At 67D it appears that the visual current
or ray is not composed of the very smallest grade of fire. (3) The
colour of the external object, defined at 67c as ' a flame (< pAof )
streaming off from every body, having particles proportioned to
those of the visual current, so as to yield sensation \

Plato begins by describing (1) Daylight.

45B. First of the organs they fabricated the eyes to bring us
light, and fastened them there for the reason which I will
now describe. Such fire as has the property, not of burning,
but of yielding a gentle light, they contrived should become
the proper body of each day.2 For 3 the pure fire within
us is akin to this, and they caused it to flow through the
eyes, making the whole fabric of the eye-ball, and especially
the central part (the pupil), smooth and close in texture,4

c. so as to let nothing pass that is of coarser stuff, but only

1 So Ar., Eudemus, frag. 47, 48, speaks of sight and hearing as heavenly
and divine senses, revealing the harmony to mankind with sound and light.
The other senses are for the sake of mere existence, these for well-being.

2 Taking oUelov cKaonjs rjpepas a together (with Madvig and A.-H.).
Each day, as it follows night, has a 4 body of its own 4 (oUcZov) , consisting of
sunlight diffused in the air, which 4 withdraws ' at nightfall (45D), following
the sinking sun. This body actually is daylight, not 4 similar ' to daylight
or 4 akin ’ to it (as A.-H. renders). But oUeZov contains the suggestion that
a 4 gentle 4 (rjpcpov) light is naturally appropriate to day (rjptpa, a word which
some modern authorities agree with Plato in connecting with rjpepos ; cf.
Crat. 41 8d). Tr.’s translation, 4 a gentle light proper to day ', ignores cKaonjs.

* The connection of thought (4 for ') is : the gods made daylight (essentially
a visible thing) of a suitable kind of fire, for they wanted us to see and so
arranged that the fire within the eye should be similar and capable of coalescing
with daylight.

4 Empedocles (84B), whom Plato is following, compares the eye to a horn
lantern, and explains that the fire confined in the eyeball is so fine as to pass
through tissues impervious to water.

152

THE MECHANISM OF VISION

45c. fire of this description to filter through pure by itself. Accord-
ingly, whenever there is daylight round about, the visual
current issues forth, like to like, and coalesces with it and is
formed into a single homogeneous body in a direct line with
the eyes, in whatever quarter the stream issuing from within
strikes upon any object it encounters outside. So the whole,
because of its homogeneity, is similarly affected and passes
on the motions of anything it comes in contact with or that
d. comes into contact with it, throughout the whole body, to
the soul, and thus causes the sensation we call seeing.1

But when the kindred fire (of daylight) has departed at
nightfall,2 the visual ray is cut off ; for issuing out to
encounter what is unlike it, it is itself changed and put out,
no longer coalescing with the neighbouring air, since this
contains no fire. Hence it sees no longer, and further induces
sleep. For when the eyelids, the protection devised by the
E. gods for vision, are closed, they confine the power of the
fire inside, and this disperses and smooths out the motions
within, and then quietness ensues. If this quiet be profound,
the sleep that comes on has few dreams ; but when some
stronger motions are left, they give rise to images answering
46. in character and number to the motions and the regions in
which they persist — images which are copies made inside and
remembered when we awake in the world outside.3

1 What is transmitted along this sympathetic chain is motion partly
originated by qualitative changes (oAAoioWis) in the object, as the Theaetetus
explains. This motion reaches the bodily organ and causes qualitative
changes there, which when they penetrate to the soul (but not before) are
called ‘ sensations ’ (43c). There is no ground for Tr.’s notion of a pencd of
light, a temporary extension of my body which may be miles long and is
sensitive throughout , and so “ transmits " sensation from one extremity to
the other \ Sensation, as Plato clearly says, occurs in the soul, not at the
surface of a mountain ten miles distant and throughout the interval.

* els vuVra, sub noctem, as atXen., Hell 4.6,7; not ‘ into night Albums,

J Didasc. xviii, paraphrases : rod 4>ojtos vvktu>p dmovros. Plato seems to imagine
the ‘ proper body of each day * moving away, following the sinking sun and
superseded by the night air with little or no fire in it. He was .plo^J
thinking of Empedocles’ two hemispheres of night and day revolving rou
the earth, the one altogether composed of fire, the other of a mature ^
and a little fire’ (Ps.-Plut., Strom . 10). The night-air, being damp, -puts
out * the fire issuing from the eye.

s The last words may mean ‘when we have emerged into the waking
world or that, when we recall a dream, the persons and t^J^reamt
of appear to be outside us, as they do in the dream itself. The latter mter
pretation is perhaps favoured by Rep. 47<* (cited by Beare, Gk Theonesof
Elementary Cognition 46): Dreaming, whether we areT^®°ron^^
consists in taking an image for the real thing it resembles. Iamnot °°™ed
that Plato could not write ‘ made inside and remembered outside m this sens .

153

MIRROR IMAGES

46a-c

46A-C. Mirror images

A short appendix on mirror images is added here, seemingly for
its own sake rather than as contributing to the main argument.
It has, however, the effect of emphasising the purely mechanical
processes of vision, which will presently be contrasted with its
rational purpose.

46A. There will now be little difficulty in understanding all that
concerns the formation of images in mirrors and any smooth
reflecting surface. As a result of the combination of the
two fires inside and outside, and again as a consequence of
the formation, on each occasion, at the smooth surface, of a
single fire which is in various ways changed in form, all

B. such reflections necessarily occur, the fire belonging to the
face (seen) coalescing, on the smooth and bright surface,
with the fire belonging to the visual ray. Left appears right
because reverse parts of the visual current come into contact
with reverse parts (of the light from the face seen), contrary
to the usual rule of impact.

In interpreting this short account of mirror images we must
beware of ascribing to Plato too much knowledge of optics. There
is no reference to the lens or the retina. He knew that the angles
of incidence and reflection of a ray are equal. This proposition is
assumed in Euclid’s Optics , where Def. 1 ‘ embodies the same idea
of the process of vision as we find in Plato, namely that it is due to
rays proceeding from our eyes and impinging upon the object,
instead of the other way about : “ the straight lines (rays) which
issue from the eye traverse the distances (or dimensions) of great
magnitudes ” ; Def. 2 : “ The figure contained by the visual rays
is a cone which has its vertex in the eye, and its base at the
extremities of the object seen ” ; Def. 3 : “ And those things are
seen on which the visual rays impinge, while those are not seen on
which they do not.” ’ 1

Plato speaks first of ‘ the combination of the two fires inside and
outside \ As above, this means ‘ inside and outside the eye \ He
has just been explaining that such combination of the visual ray
with the sunlight does not occur at night, and how in sleep the
visual fire confined inside gives rise to dream images. He now
returns to the case where combination does occur, resulting in
coalescence of the internal fire with the external into one homo-
geneous body which can transmit the motions from object to eye.
That is the first condition of all vision.

1 Heath, Gk. Math. 1, 441.

154

MIRROR IMAGES

In the special case of reflections, there is a second condition :
' the formation at the smooth surface of a single fire which is in
various ways changed in form \ At the reflecting surface the visual
ray which has coalesced with the daylight encounters a stream of
fire from the object, and the two now form ' a single fire ’, extending
from the object to the mirror and from the mirror to the eye.
The object taken as illustration is ‘ the face*, which may be the face
of someone else standing beside the observer and facing the mirror
(as in the diagram), or the observer’s own face. The single fire is
said to be ‘ in various ways changed in form \ This probably
refers forward to the transposition of right and left mentioned in
the next sentence, and also to the distortions due to the mirror
having a curved surface. The transposition of right and left is
mentioned in an earlier dialogue, the Sophist 266c : a reflection

A. Direct Vision
of person facing the
observer's eye.

Person

Left

Right

B. Reflection
of person facing a mirror.

Image

Surface of

occurs * when the light belonging to the eye meet? and coalesces
with light belonging to something else on a bright and smooth
surface and produces a form yielding a perception that is the
reverse of the ordinary direct view \

Finally, in the next sentence, there is the case of a mirror whose
two sides curve forward so that the surface becomes cylindrical,
with the curvature horizontal. The effect is that the rays 4 change
sides ’, and right again becomes right as in direct vision. If the
mirror is turned through a right angle so that the curvature becomes
vertical, the image will appear inverted.

46B. On the contrary, right appears right and left left, when the
visual light changes sides in the act of coalescing with the
light with which it does coalesce ; and this happens when
c. the smooth surface of the mirror, being curved upwards at
either side, throws the right part of the visual current to the

155

ACCESSORY CAUSES 46c-47e

46c. left, and the left to the right. The same curvature turned
lengthwise to the face makes the whole appear upside down,
throwing the lower part of the ray towards the top and the
upper part towards the bottom.

This disquisition on optics will seem less intrusive if we remember
that the whole apparatus of vision was peculiarly significant to
Plato because of the analogy between the bodily eye and the eye
of the soul, and between the sunlight and truth. Dream images,
shadows, and reflections occupied in the Republic (510A) the lowest
section of the Divided Line. The relation of these eidola to the actual
visible things whose images they are was there used to illustrate the
relation not only of the lower objects of intelligence to the higher,
but also of the whole visible world to its intelligible pattern. In
the Sophist (266) a parallel is drawn between divine and human
production. Divine production covers the same field as the work
of the Demiurge in the Timaeus : it is the creation of the whole
visible world, divided into (1) originals, * ourselves and all other
living creatures and the elements of natural things — fire, water,
and their kindred ' , and (2) images which attend on all these products:
dream images, shadows, reflections. In human production the two
classes have their analogues in (1) the production of useful things
by crafts such as the builder’s, who makes an actual house, and
(2) images, such as the painter’s, who makes, as it were, * a man-
made dream for waking eyes’. In this lower class rank all the
fine arts, political rhetoric, and sophistry. Thus the relation of
dreams and reflections to their originals was associated with what
may be called the metaphysical problem of the eidolon, a problem
raised but not answered in the Sophist : How can there be such a
thing as a visible world, which is not perfectly real (Svrcog dv) and
yet has some sort of existence (ovncog).1 The problem was there
consciously shelved ; if Plato meant to deal with it in the Philosopher
that dialogue was never written. We must look for the answer,
if anywhere, in the Timaeus. We are now approaching the second
section of the dialogue, which brings into account a hitherto neg-
lected factor in Becoming — the Receptacle. This, we shall find,
plays a part analogous to the mirror holding the reflections of actual
things (52B, c).

46C-47E. Accessory causes contrasted with the purpose of sight and
hearing

The account of eyesight has brought us to the point of contact
between the knowing soul and the external world of visible bodies.

1 Cf. F. M. Coraford, Plato's Theory of Knowledge , pp. 199 fi-, 320 fi.

156

ACCESSORY CAUSES

The form in which it was cast was designed to serve another purpose.
It leads to the transition from the first section of the dialogue to
the second, from the works of Reason to what comes about of
Necessity. We have been told about the mechanism of vision,
what happens to the rays of light and colour in the commerce
between the sense-organ and its object outside. All such physical
transactions we need to study ; but they will not reveal the true
reason or explanation (ah (a) of vision, the purpose it is rationally
designed to serve. They tell us ' how * we see, but not ' why \

46c. Now all these things are among the accessory causes which
the god uses as subservient in achieving the best result that
is possible. But the great mass of mankind regard them,
d. not as accessories, but as the sole causes of all things, pro-
ducing effects by cooling or heating, compacting or rarefying,
and all such processes. But such things are incapable of
any plan or intelligence for any purpose. For we must
declare that the only existing thing which properly possesses
intelligence is soul, and this is an invisible thing, whereas
fire, water, earth, and air are all visible bodies ; and a lover
of intelligence and knowledge must necessarily seek first for
the causation that belongs to the intelligent nature,1 and
E. only in the second place for that which belongs to things
that are moved by others and of necessity set yet others in
motion. We too, then, must proceed on this principle : we
must speak of both kinds of cause, but distinguish causes
that work with intelligence to produce what is good and
desirable, from those which, being destitute of reason, produce
their sundry effects at random and without order.

Enough, then, of the secondary causes that have con-
tributed 2 to give the eyes the power they now possess ; we
must next speak of their highest function for our benefit,
47. for the sake of which the god has given them to us. Sight,
then, in my judgment is the cause of the highest benefits to
us in that no word of our present discourse about the universe
could ever have been spoken, had we never seen stars, Sun,
and sky. But as it is, the sight of day and night, of months
and the revolving years, of equinox and solstice, has caused
the invention of number and bestowed on us the notion of
time and the study of the nature of the world ; whence we

tt\s €{i(f>povo$ <f>vo€o>s, i.e. rfjs iftvx*}s, possessive genitive. For oaai (alriai)
u, cf. Soph. 265c, Belas (sc. alrLas) ai to dcov ycyvofiev^s, * causation which
has its origin in deity \

2 ovnfj,€TcuTia recalls Soph., Antig. 537, /cat o-u^eria^o) /cat </>epa> rfjs alrLas, * I
take my share with you in the burden of the accusation (or responsibility)/

P.C. 157 M

ACCESSORY CAUSES

46c~47e

47B. have derived all philosophy, than which no greater boon has
ever come or shall come to mortal man as a gift from heaven.
This, then, I call the greatest benefit of eyesight ; why harp
upon all those things of less importance, for which one who
loves not wisdom, if he were deprived of the sight of them,
might * lament with idle moan ' ? 1 For our part, rather let
us speak of eyesight as the cause of this benefit,2 for these
ends : the god invented and gave us vision in order that we
might observe the circuits of intelligence in the heaven and
profit by them for the revolutions of our own thought,
which are akin to them, though ours be troubled and they

C. are unperturbed ; and that, by learning to know them and
acquiring the power to compute them rightly according to
nature, we might reproduce the perfectly unerring revolutions
of the god and reduce to settled order the wandering motions
in ourselves.

Of sound 3 and hearing once more the same account may
be given : they are a gift from heaven for the same intent
and purpose. For not only was speech appointed to this
same intent, to which it contributes in the largest measure,

D. but also all that part of Music that is serviceable with respect
to the hearing of sound is given for the sake of harmony ; 4
and harmony, whose motions are akin to the revolutions of
the soul within us, has been given by the Muses to him whose

. commerce with them is guided by intelligence, not for the
sake of irrational pleasure (which is now thought to be its
utility), but as an ally against the inward discord that has
come into the revolution of the soul, to bring it into order
and consonance with itself. Rhythm also was a succour

1 a>v governed by rv<f> Xcodeis. Stallb. compares Xen., Symp. iv, 12, rv<f>Xos
rwv aXXtov anavrcov fiaXXov av be^aifiijv tlvai rj etcelvov ivos ovros. The last words
quote Eur., Phoenissae 1762, ri ra vra dpTjvco Kal (jLarrjv ohvpopai)

2 Taking rovrov (like rovro above) to mean philosophy, and ini ravra as
referring forward to the rest of the sentence. Cf. c, 5, ini ravra rwv avrwv evcKa.

8 <j>a>v rf, as opposed to \jjo<j>os (noise), covers articulate speech and musical
sound.

4 Reading <f>a)vfjs j^y/jatfiov npos aKoty, <f>a>vrjs being governed by a Korjv. ‘ Music '
is a wide term, including poetry and the thought conveyed in it. That part
which * is serviceable with respect to the hearing of sound ' is vocal and
instrumental music in our sense. <j>ajvrj xp^j^ov can hardly mean ‘ vocal ' ;
and why should instrumental music be excluded ? Nor can it mean ‘ expressed
in sound ' ; and * useful to the voice ’ is irrelevant, ivcxa apfiovlas icrrl hoQiv
must be taken as predicate, to give cvcKa app.ovCas the necessary emphasis.
* Apfjtovla is not the ‘ harmony ’ of simultaneous concordant sounds (crvpi<l>a)vla) ,
but strictly the adjustment of notes in the concordant ratios of the scale.
But ‘ harmony ' (tunefulness) is the nearest English equivalent.

158

WHAT HAPPENS OF NECESSITY

47D. bestowed upon us by the same hands to the same intent,
e. because in the most part of us our condition is lacking in
measure and poor in grace.

II. WHAT COMES ABOUT OF NECESSITY

The distinction drawn in the last paragraph between subsidiary
causes and rational purpose has provided the transition to the
second part of the dialogue, which begins here. The opening
sentence describes the contents of the first part as the works wrought
by the craftsmanship of divine intelligence (ra did. Nov dedrjjuiovQy-
rj/UEva). We have traced, in the structure of the visible universe and
of man, the manifestations of benevolent purpose ; but we have
been perpetually reminded that the work of the most ungrudging
benevolence cannot be perfect ; it can only be 4 as good as possible \
The Demiurge has been operating all through under certain given
conditions, which he did not originate and which set a limit to the
goodness of his work. We have now to bring into account that
* other principle 1 concerned in the production. It is introduced
under the names of Necessity and the Errant Cause.

If we consider the plan of the whole discourse, we see that Plato,
who has hitherto been looking at the world, as it were, from above,
and following the procedure of intelligence as it introduces order
into chaos, now shifts to the opposite pole and approaches the
world from the dark abyss that confronted its maker. Step by
step he analyses those elements which were pictured at the outset
as ‘ taken over ' by the Demiurge — ‘ all that was visible, not at
rest, but in discordant and unordered motion ’ (30 a). These
factors are gradually distinguished, until we reach the fundamental
factor, Space. Space being given, Plato can then proceed to
discover elements of rational design even in the ' tumultuous welter
of fire, air, water, and earth \ The . geometrical shapes of the
primary bodies are constructed ; and once they are formed into
regular particles of determinate size and shape, the transformation
of one into another, which had bulked so large in earlier physical
systems, can be translated into terms of the disintegration and
reformation of these solids. In some degree, the sensible qualities
(or ' powers ') which act upon our sense-organs can then be cor-
related with the peculiarities of geometrical shape ; and so we shall
come back once more, at the end of this second part, to the mechan-
ism of sensation and perception — that point of contact between
the knowing soul and the external world, to which the first part
has brought us here.

159

NECESSITY. THE ERRANT CAUSE 47e-48e
47E-48E. Necessity . The Errant Cause

The opening paragraph is of fundamental importance for the
understanding of the whole discourse. It describes the relations
between Reason and Necessity, and how they co-operate to produce
the visible world.

47E. Now our foregoing discourse, save for a few matters,1 has
set forth the works wrought by the craftsmanship of Reason ;
but we must now set beside them the things that come about
48. of Necessity. For the generation of this universe was a
mixed result of the combination of Necessity and Reason.
Reason overruled Necessity by persuading her to guide the
greatest part of the things that become towards what is best ;
in that way and on that principle this universe was fashioned
in the beginning by the victory of reasonable persuasion over
Necessity. If, then, we are really to tell how it came into
being on this principle, we must bring in also the Errant
Cause — in what manner its nature is to cause motion.2 So
we must return upon our steps thus, and taking, in its turn,

b. a second principle concerned in the origin of these same
things, start once more upon our present theme from the
beginning, as we did upon the theme of our earlier discourse.

We must, in fact, consider in itself the nature of fire and
water, air and earth, before the generation of the Heaven,
and their condition 3 before the Heaven was. For to this
day no one has explained their generation, but we speak as

1 Namely, the account of the physical processes of vision, which are only
secondary causes, subservient to the true ‘ reason ' for the gift of sight.

2 to rrjs irXavwnivqs tl&os curias, $ <f>epeiv rre^Wev. “ Literally ‘ how it is its
nature to set in motion ' ” (A.-H.) . For this use of <j>tp€ iv cf. Epin. 983B, ore 8e
tovto otos ri iarriv deos, arraoa airrco pqordnn) yiyovev rod rrpcoTOV pkv £o >ov ycyovcvai
nav output koll oytcov ovpLrravra, eneira firrep av Siavorjdfj /?eA nara, ravrrj </>ep€iv, ' And
since God can do this, it is the easiest of things for him, first to put life into any
body and the whole of any bulk, and then to make it move as he has thought best’
(trans. Harward) . Cf . also 43 a, where the soul-circles ‘ cause and suffer violent
motions ' (filq. tyipovr o koX i<f>epov), 1 straying (7rAava>/xeva) every way in all the
six directions and note there (p. 148) . The meaning will be further discussed
below. (2) Some critics have followed Stallbaum in taking <j>€peiv to mean

* endure ’ and so * admit ratione qua ipsius naturafert ; ‘ comme la nature des
choses le comporte ’ (Martin) ; ‘ so far as its own nature admits ’ (Tr.). It
may be questioned whether <j>ipeiv with no expressed object can bear this sense.
(3) Robin (Phys. d. Plat. 14) : et la suivre distinctement ‘ par oil sa nature est
de porter ’. This is impossible, because la suivre is not in the Greek.

* iradij is vague. It might cover the chaotic condition and behaviour of the

* powers ’ before the elementary bodies received geometrical form, and
‘ what happened to them ’, namely the construction of those bodies, which no
one has yet explained.

160

NECESSITY. THE ERRANT CAUSE

48B. if men knew what fire and each of the others is, positing
them as original principles, elements (as it were, letters) of
the universe ; whereas one who has ever so little intelligence
c. should not rank them in this analogy even so low as syllables.1
On this occasion, however, our contribution is to be limited
as follows. We are not now to speak of the 1 first principle *
or * principles ' — or whatever name men choose to employ —
of all things, if only on account of the difficulty of explaining
what we think by our present method of exposition. You,
then, must not demand the explanation of me ; nor could
D. I persuade myself that I should be right in taking upon
myself so great a task ; but holding fast to what I said at
the outset — the worth of a probable account — I will try to
give an explanation of all these matters in detail, no less
probable than another, but more so, starting from the
beginning in the same manner as before.2 So now once
again at the outset of our discourse let us call upon a pro-
tecting deity to grant us safe passage through a strange and
unfamiliar exposition to the conclusion that probability
e. dictates ; and so let us begin once more.

In this prefatory passage the word &Q%rj (‘ beginning ’, * principle ',
‘ starting-point ’) is reiterated many times, with a certain fluctuation
of sense.

The discourse needs a fresh starting-point . The previous part
started from the question, for what reason (purpose, motive, airia)
the world was made (29D). The answer was found in the maker's
desire that all things should be as like himself, that is to say, as
good, as possible. This was the ‘ supremely valid principle ' (or
starting-point, olqxv) to be accepted from men of understanding ;
and we have followed its guidance to the point where rational
design came into contrast with factors in the visible world that are
‘ incapable of any plan or intelligence for any purpose ’ (46D).
We must now start afresh upon a study of these irrational factors.

They are at once connected with ‘ the nature of fire and air,
water and earth \ These four so-called ‘ elements ’, or some one

1 aroLX€ia, letters of the alphabet, first used in extant literature of the
physical elements at Theaet. 201 e. It is, however, not unlikely that Leucippus
or Democritus illustrated the infinitely various combinations of atoms by the
rearrangement of the same set of letters to form a tragedy or a comedy (Diels,
Elementum 13).

2 Kal HfjurpooOev seems untranslatable. I suggest <fj> teal ipi rp. Cf. 48B, 2,
KaOairep nepl ra>v rore . . . irdAw apKriov an dpxrjs* But, just below at E, 2,
it is added that the new starting-point must be a fuller classification than the
one we started from ‘ before * (rfjs npoerdev) .

161

REASON AND NECESSITY 47e-48e

or more of them, had been regarded by Ionian science and by
popular thought as the original principles (aQ%aC) of all things.
The earliest Ionians had chosen water or air as the one original
condition (dgxrf) from which a manifold world had emerged, and also
as the fundamental form (cpvoig) of which all things at all times
ultimately consist. Empedocles had taken all four and clearly
endowed them with the status of elements , irreducible and immutable
factors which are merely mixed and rearranged in space to yield
all the variety of compounds. The unexplained existence of the
four elements had been taken as the starting-point for cosmogony,
their properties and behaviour assumed, ‘ as if men knew what
fire and each of the others is \ Plato at once denies them the
status of elements, and promises to * explain their generation '
from prior and simpler beginnings. He intends to construct the
geometrical shapes of the four primary bodies from triangles which
he takes as elementary. Only he adds that even this analysis will
not claim to have reached * the first principle or principles of all
things \ This warning may mean that the elementary triangles
themselves are reducible to numbers, and number perhaps to be
derived from unity ; but he will not here push the analysis so far.
Or it may mean that no one can ever really know the ultimate
constitution of body, because there can be no such thing as physical
science, but only a * probable account \

There was, however, another and more objectionable sense in
which the elements had been called aQ%ai : they had been taken as
the original source of motion {a.Q%r) XLvrjaecog), ‘ producing effects by
cooling or heating, compacting or rarefying, and all such processes ’
(46D). These effects were produced blindly by things incapable of
any rational plan or forethought ; and from their casual interplay
the world-order was believed to have emerged. In this way the
elements and the physical processes due to their properties or
4 powers ' (<5 wdjueig) were made responsible as the true and only
causes of all things (alna rcbv navxoov , 46D). Plato intends to maintain
that they are not original causes of motion and so of world-formation.
The only source of motion is the self-moving soul, ‘ the causation
of the intelligent nature ' (46D). These bodies hold only the second
rank, as * things that are (passively) moved by others and of
necessity set yet others in motion \

Reason and Necessity. With all this in mind, Plato opens this
second part of the discourse with the contrasted powers of Reason
and Necessity. Both, he says, contribute their part to the formation
of the world of Becoming. Reason, aiming at the best, must use
persuasion to win over Necessity, inducing her ' to guide the greatest
part (but not all) of the things that become towards what is best \

162

REASON AND NECESSITY

Immediately afterwards, he speaks of this second factor, Necessity,
as an Errant Cause, whose manner of causing motion must be
taken into account.

This central utterance has been much misunderstood, because the
conceptions are foreign to the modern mind. How can Reason
overrule Necessity by persuasion ? Is not Necessity precisely the
inexorable, which can listen to no persuasion ? Necessity, in associa-
tion with the material, suggests to us the unbroken and unbreakable
chain of cause and effect, determining the whole course of events.
What opening is left for persuasion ? Moreover, we connect
Necessity with the element of intelligible order and regular sequence
in becoming ; and we look to that quarter for the objects of know-
ledge, of natural science, whose aim is to formulate laws of necessary
causation. How can Plato speak of Necessity as the errant or
wandering cause, as something essentially irregular and unin-
telligible, needing to be brought, so far as possible, into order and
persuaded to subserve, in some measure, the intelligent direction
of Reason ?

In interpreting this passage some modern commentators are,
perhaps unconsciously, influenced by the desire to bring Plato into
conformity with the Jewish-Christian doctrine of an omnipotent
Creator. They are reluctant to admit any factor in the visible
world that does not owe its existence to God, who, having called
all things into being out of nothing, must himself be the author of
Nature’s inexorable laws, and responsible for every defect in his
handiwork. Archer-Hind’s interpretation goes to the extreme in
this direction, though he substitutes for the Christian God an
idealistic equivalent — an absolute Spirit evolving everything out of
itself by a timeless process of thought (whatever that may mean).
By identifying the Demiurge with the Form of the Good, the
World-Soul, and the sovereign Reason, he finds that Plato’s system
is ‘ a form of pantheism ’ and ‘ an absolute idealism ’. Matter is
reduced to extension, and extension ‘ exists only subjectively in our
minds ’ (p. 45). In this view there is really nothing left but God,
who must accordingly be the author of Necessity ; and Necessity
is identified with natural law. It ‘ signifies the forces of matter
originated by vovg, the sum total of the physical laws which govern
the material universe : that is to say, the laws which govern the
existence of vovg in the form of plurality ’ (p. 166). The forces of
nature ‘ are themselves expressly designed by Intelligence for a good
end. . . . Necessity persuaded by Intelligence means in fact that
necessity is a mode of the operation of intelligence ’. The phrase
' Errant Cause ’ implies no uncertainty or caprice in the operation
of necessity, but only that necessity, though working strictly in

163

REASON AND NECESSITY 47e-48e

obedience to a certain law, is for the most part as inscrutable to us
as if it acted from arbitrary caprice (p. 167).

In all this Archer-Hind has pushed too far (and in the wrong
direction) his principle of * stripping off the veil of allegory ' from
Plato’s myth. By pursuing that principle the Neoplatonists dis-
covered in the Timaeus a hierarchy of divinities that would have
astonished Plato. It is no less easy for a modem critic to unveil
the outlines of Christian theology or of the Hegelian absolute. We
must pause to ask whether there is any sense in speaking of Reason
as ‘ persuading ’ a Necessity which has emanated wholly from
Reason itself, or of an ‘ Errant Cause ’ which is only an unerring
cause that happens to be inscrutable to us and may become less
and less inscrutable as knowledge advances.

By assuming that Necessity means the laws of nature and identify-
ing these laws with a mode of the operation of Reason, Archer-Hind
has eliminated one of Plato's two factors and left Reason in complete
control. Professor Taylor reaches the same result by a different
route. We are not, he remarks, to confuse Plato’s Ananke with
‘ scientific necessity ’ or ‘ the reign of law ’ for she is expressly
called the ‘ rambling ’ or ‘ aimless ’ or ' irresponsible ’ cause
(TtXavco/Liivrj ah ia). ‘ Thus it is not the “ necessary " but the 0 con-
tingent ”, the things for which we do not see any sufficient reason,
the apparently arbitrary “ collocations ” in nature which are the
contribution of that which Plato here calls avayxrj . . . We must
not take avayxrj to represent anything inherently lawless and
irrational, and yet must not take the word to mean necessity in
the sense of conformity to law.’ If we speak of ‘ mechanical
causality ’, it must be with reservations. Mechanism is entirely
subordinate to intelligent purpose ; and, as the term 4 errant cause ’
implies, * this “ mechanism ”, if we are to call it so, is supposed to
be most prominent in the apparently anomalous, exceptional, and
singular. I take it this means that where we can see a rational
connection in nature we are dealing with what Timaeus calls a
creation of vovg . . . But there is in the world a good deal of
what we may call ” brute ” fact. We know it is there but we do
not see ” what the good of it ” is, though, if we think with Timaeus
and Plato, we feel satisfied that it subserves some good end. ... If
we could ever have complete knowledge, we should find that avayxrj
had vanished from our account of the world. But since the sensible
world itself is an a el yiyvojievov and never complete, there can be
no complete knowledge of it ’ (pp. 300-1).

As against Archer-Hind, Professor Taylor seems right in refusing
to identify Necessity with natural law, which is neither an errant
cause nor open to persuasion. But it is impossible to dispose of

164

REASON AND NECESSITY

Necessity as a mere residuum of hitherto unexplained fact, which
complete knowledge (if man could ever attain to it) would reduce
to nothing. Consider the effect of substituting this notion for
Plato's Necessity. Could he have written that the generation of
the universe was a mixed result of a combination of Reason and a
certain amount of brute fact which dwindles as we come to see the
reason for it ? Is there any sense in saying that Reason overruled
this residuum of facts which we cannot yet account for and
persuaded it to guide most things that become towards what is
best ? Professor Taylor seems to have explained away the name
Necessity as completely as Archer-Hind explained away the name
Errant Cause. Both are influenced by the desire to make Plato's
Demiurge really omnipotent.

Now, in discussing the Demiurge (p. 36), we have already
remarked that the omnipotent Creator is foreign to ancient Greek
thought, which unanimously denied the possibility of creating
anything out of nothing. Plato’s Demiurge, whatever he stands
for, is represented as like the human craftsman, who must have
materials to work upon. His task is to bring some intelligible
order into a disorder which he ‘ takes over ', not to create the
material before he fashions it. The material may have properties
of its own, which he can, within limits, turn to his purpose, but
which he did not institute. This possibility should be kept open,
not foreclosed by the gratuitous assumption that the Demiurge
must possess unrestricted omnipotence. In this respect the diffi-
culty, as Professor Field remarks, is rather to conceive a purpose
that is not restricted by given conditions. It is the familiar experi-
ence of every craftsman that his material limits the scope of his
design and may hinder it from reaching a perfection he can imagine
but never achieve. So far, there is really nothing but modern
prejudice against accepting Plato’s picture of the divine Reason as
confronted by something which partly thwarts his benevolent
purpose and needs to be persuaded, because it is not wholly under
his control. The difficulty for us lies rather in a different quarter,
in the seemingly contradictory notion of a Necessity which is also
an Errant Cause, and associated, not with order and intelligibility,
but with disorder and random chance.

We may start from a passage where Aristotle, discussing ‘necessity '
in contrast with final causation in Nature, associates necessity with
accident, coincidence, chance, and spontaneity, because they are all
contrasted with design. He puts the opponent's case in this way :

' Why should not nature work, not for the sake of something,

nor because it is better so, but just as the sky rains, not in order

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REASON AND NECESSITY

47e-48e

to make the corn grow, but of necessity (e£ dvdyxrjg) ? What is
drawn up must cool, and what has been cooled must become
water and descend, the result of this being (av/u^aLvei) that the
corn grows. Similarly if a man's crop is spoiled oil the threshing-
floor, the rain did not fall for the sake of this — in order that the
crop might be spoiled — but that result just followed (ovfiftefirixEv).
Why then should it not be the same with the parts in nature,
e.g. that our teeth should come up of necessity (e£ ava yxrjg) — the
front teeth sharp, fitted for tearing, the molars broad and useful
for grinding down the food — since they did not arise for this end,
but it was merely a coincident result {av/uneoelv) ; and so with
all other parts in which we suppose that there is purpose (to
ivexa r ov) ? Wherever then all the parts came about [ovv&fhrj) just
what they would have been if they had come to be for an end,
such things survived, being organised spontaneously (and r ov
avr o/uarov) in a fitting way ; whereas those which grew otherwise
perished and continue to perish, as Empedocles says his 44 man-
faced ox-progeny " did.' 1

In this passage the idea of necessity is opposed to purpose, and
linked with spontaneity, coincidence, chance. If we toss a coin
and it comes down heads up, it would not occur to us to call that
a 4 necessary ' result, because (we should feel) there is no law that
coins must always come down so. Aristotle would call it indiffer-
ently a * chance ' result or a 4 necessary ' result : it * comes about '
by causes that cannot act otherwise than they do and are not
directed by purpose. Empedocles’ oxen with men’s heads and
other such monstrous creatures were formed by the chance con-
currence of limbs which came into existence separately and were
never intended to fit together. The monsters perished because
they could not reproduce their kind. Others, more fortunately
composed, were able to survive. In the minds of Plato and
Aristotle this Empedoclean theory stood for the view of nature
which they condemned. The two alternatives, as they saw the
question, were that the order of the world should be due either to
intelligible purpose or to the undirected play of necessity and
chance. At Philebus 28d Socrates asks : 4 Which are we to say,
Protarchus — that everything, this 44 whole ” as we call it, is at the
disposal of a force that works without plan, at random, and just
as it may chance,2 or on the contrary, as our predecessors said,
that it is an ordered system, guided by some admirable reason or
intelligence ? ’ Protarchus replies that it seems impious to doubt

1 At., Phys. B, viii, 198 b, 17 (Oxford trans.).

2 ttjv r ov aXoyov teal eitejj hvvafuv teal to oitj) Ztvxcv.

166

REASON AND NECESSITY

that all things are directed by a mind worthily manifest in the
whole appearance of the cosmos and in the revolutions of thfe
heavenly bodies. Socrates concludes that we shall not agree when
some clever person tells us that all things are in a disorderly condition
{araxtcog £%eiv). There is a similar passage in the Sophist , where
the alternative to divine craftsmanship is ‘ the belief commonly
expressed that Nature (&voig) gives birth to things as a result of
some spontaneous cause that generates without intelligence ' (265c).
Here, as in the Physics, we find, in contrast with design, a spon-
taneous power of generation ascribed to a vaguely personified
' Nature \

The earliest cosmogonies were of the evolutionary type and led
to what Plato regarded as the atheistic materialism of which he
draws a generalised picture in the Laws . Some, says the Athenian,
assert that all things come into being partly by nature {(pvaei),
partly by chance {rvxTl)> and partly by design (art, t e%vrj). Fire
and water, earth and air, they say, all exist by nature and chance,
not by design ; and these inanimate things then bring into existence
the Sun and Moon, the Stars, and the Earth. They all move ' by
the chance of their several powers (active properties, dwa/uecog), and
according as they clash and fit together with some sort of affinity —
hot with cold, dry with moist, soft with hard, and in other mixtures
that result, by chance, of necessity {xararvxrjv e£ dvayxrjg), from the
combination of opposites — in that way they have generated the
whole Heaven, animals and plants, and the seasons, not owing to
intelligence or design or some divinity, but by nature and chance *
{(pvaei xal rvxT])- Art (design, rexvrj) is a later product, mortal and
of mortal origin. There are the fine and useful arts, and the art
of statesmanship. All law is artificial, not natural ; so religion
and morality are matters of convention, which vary from place to
place and can be altered at human pleasure. This leads to the
belief that might is right, to impiety and faction (888E-890B).
The Athenian himself denies that fire and air, water and earth
are the primary things and deserve, in that sense, the name of
' nature \ Soul is really ' the first cause of the becoming and
perishing of all things \ Soul is prior to all bodies, and governs
their change and rearrangement. Judgment, forethought, intelli-
gence, design, law (vojuog), are prior to ' hard and soft, heavy and
light \ If ' nature ’ means the generation of primary things, then
soul has the best right to be described as existing ' by nature '
(891C-892C).

In this passage of the Laws, as in the Physics, we find necessity
linked with chance, while law (■ vofiog ) and order are connected with
design. Chance and necessity, moreover, are associated with

167

REASON AND NECESSITY 47e-48e

* Nature ’, which is credited by the materialist with some spon-
taneous power of generation. This idea had survived from the
earliest cosmologies, which had conceived the primary element or
' nature of things ' as living. In consequence, the first physical
philosophers had felt no difficulty about an original cause of motion.
The divine and immortal substance of the world moved and gave
birth to individual things, because it was alive. It was only later
that this substance came to be reduced to the level of the bodily,
which needs some external force to move it about. At that stage
separate moving powers emerged : the Mind of Anaxagoras, the
Love and Strife of Empedocles. These forces, however, remained
part of Nature ; they were not what we should call immaterial,
but were extended in space. They retained that power of self-
motion which had originally resided in the primary substance ;
but their motion was not directed by purpose towards any ideal
of perfection in an ordered world. Even Anaxagoras' Mind, in
spite of its name, had not been represented as working with conscious
design for any good end, but only as giving the first impulse of
mechanical motion to the revolution, or cosmic eddy, in which the
world takes shape.

In the last of these physical systems, the atomism of Leucippus
and Democritus, the cause of motion seems to have entirely dis-
appeared. Matter or body has now been reduced to tiny impene-
trable particles of solid ‘ being \ These and the void or ‘ not-being '
in which they move are the sole realities in the universe. Rational
design or purpose had no part in the formation of the world. The
atoms move unceasingly in all directions. As they collide and fly
off to a new quarter, they form vortices here and there in the field
of unlimited space. In these vortices atoms of similar size and
shape tend to drift together, like the sticks and straws in the eddies
of a stream ; and so finally worlds are always being formed, innumer-
able worlds scattered throughout the void, holding together for a
time and then shattered and dispersed.

Why do the atoms move ? Aristotle complains that the atomists
merely declared motion to be everlasting ; they did not explain
what motion is, or how it occurs, or why it should be in one direction
rather than another. He accuses them of indolence in ignoring
these questions ; but the truth was that, by reducing all the
contents of the universe to solid bodies with no qualitative differ-
ences, they had left nothing that could possibly originate motion.
The atoms collided and inflicted shocks on one another, so as to
be constantly changing the direction of their movements. The
process had no beginning ; atoms have always been moving in all
directions, aimlessly and at random. The only principle governing

x68

REASON AND NECESSITY

their motion is the tendency of like atoms to come together in the
vortices. This is assumed as an unanalysed axiom, supported
only by superficial analogies and proverbial maxims : 4 birds of a
feather flock together \ It is the last remnant of that spontaneous
moving power in Nature which had originally animated the living
substance. 4 Like tends to move towards like * is now taken as a
bare unexplained fact ; but the principle is evidently akin to the
more concrete images of Love and Strife in Empedocles, though
his Love is the attraction between unlikes. It is not for nothing
that Love and Strife reappear in the poem of Lucretius as Venus
and Mars, though these mythical figures seem to have no right to
any place in the arid universe of atoms and void. The principle
‘Like moves towards like ’ is important for our purpose ; for we
find it, still as an ultimate unexplained assumption, at work in the
chaos of the Timaeus.

A world in the atomists* system can thus be described as a
product of chance or, as Aristotle calls it, spontaneity. 4 There are
some/ he writes,1 4 who ascribe this Heaven of ours and all the
worlds to spontaneity (to avrofiarov). They say that the vortex,
that is, the motion which separated and arranged in its present
order all that exists, arose spontaneously/ From another point of
view the result may be called necessary, in the sense that every
motion takes place 4 under constraint * (vn avdyxrjg) of some previous
motion : an atom receives a shock and blindly passes it on. But
the ancients had not discovered the laws of motion : to say that
a movement happens 4 by constraint * is not to say that it conforms
to any law. Necessity, in fact, did not carry with it the associations
of law and order, at any rate in the earlier phases of atomism. The
system might develop later towards a complete determinism,
threatening to exclude any freedom of the will ; but Democritus
shows no trace of having perceived this implication in the moral
sphere.2 The reason, I suspect, is that he had not arrived at what

1 Physics, B, 4, 196a, 25. The reference to * all the worlds ’ shows that the
atomists are meant.

2 This has been pointed out by Dr. Bailey. See The Greek Atomists, p. 122.
In his paper on Fate, Men, and Gods (Proc. Class. Assoc., i935> P* I^)» Pr-
Bailey writes : * It is in Democritus that we find for the first time anything
like a consistent theory of Ethics, yet it is strange that there is no trace of
any link between it and his physical theory of the world. The problem was
really fundamental, for if the rule of “ necessity ” is absolute, then men s
actions must be determined like everything else, and it is no good telling
them what they ought to do, if they are not free to do it. Yet of this difficulty
there is no sign ; the figure of “ chance ” now and then raises its head in
Democritus’ aphorisms, but never the thought of “ fate ” or of an inexorable
•* necessity The scientific view of the world has been laid down, but its
implications have not been worked out.’

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REASON AND NECESSITY 47e-48e

we should call a strictly mechanical or 4 scientific * conception of
the world. His necessity was compatible with spontaneity.1

The thought of the fifth century in general was still farther
removed than atomism from any closed system of determinism.2
An attempt to arrive at the philosophy implied in Thucydides'
conception of the Course of history 3 led me to the conclusion that
Thucydides, like his contemporaries, did not conceive nature as
a domain of causal law. He believed in Fortune, defined as ‘ any
non-natural agency which breaks in, as it were, from outside and
diverts the current of events, without itself being a part of the
series or an effect determined by an antecedent member of it.
Human actions are not to be fitted into such a series. Their only
causes — if we are to speak of causes at all — are motives, each of
which is itself uncaused by anything preceding it in time ; all
human motives are absolute “ beginnings of motion ”. A view of

1 The statement which most clearly attributes a complete determinism to
Democritus is in [Plutarch] Strom, 7 ( Vors . 55 a, 39) : He declared the universe
to be unlimited, because it had never been fashioned by any design. . . .
The causes of what now happens had no beginning ( apxrjv ), but all things
absolutely “ both past, present, and future ” were determined by necessity
(constraint, rrj dvdyKj)) without any beginning in time. The words in inverted
commas are the only ones recognised by Diels as Democritus' own, and we
cannot be sure that the doxographer’s statement was not based, for example,
on the view attributed to Democritus by Aristotle ( Phys . 252 a, 34) : ‘ Thus
Democritus reduces the causes that explain nature to the fact that things
happened in the past in the same way as they happen now : but he does
not think fit to seek for a first principle ( apxrjv ) to explain this “ always
Aristotle makes this remark in connection with the doctrine that ‘ there
never was or will be a time at which motion did not or will not exist '. If
Democritus was only affirming that principle, he might easily be understood
to mean what the doxographer states. In other testimonies we are told that
he actually identified * necessity ' or ‘ constraint ’ with the whirl or vortex
of atoms (55A, 1) or with ‘ the collision, motion, and shock of matter ' (55A, 66) .

* Atoms hold together until some more powerful constraint present in the
environment shakes them apart and disperses them ' (55 a, 37, Simplicius).
This is not the ‘ necessity ’ of causal law.

2 It has been remarked that in Greece oracular predictions were normally
hypothetical. * It is extremely common for an oracle to answer : if you
act in such and such a way, the result will be such and such. . . . The oracle
foretells the future subject to certain conditions ; it can predict the con-
sequences of a certain course of action. Such prophecies presuppose the
existence of an order, a regularity in what happens, which yet leaves some
scope for the individual. Life is not foreordained except in so far as its events
are the effects of definite causes/ E. Ehnmark, The Idea of God in Homer,
Uppsala (1935), p. 75. Even this statement is, perhaps, expressed in too
modem terms.

8 Thucydides Mythistoricus, London (1907), ch. vi. My excuse for quoting
my own words at length is that the book is out of print. I can only reproduce
here the conclusions without the supporting evidence.

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REASON AND NECESSITY

the universe in which this irruption of free human agency is tacitly
assumed is at any rate illogical if it denies the possibility of similar
irruptions into the course of Nature by non-human agencies/
Thucydides, like the Socrates of Xenophon,1 contrasts ' the field
of ordinary human foresight (yvcbjurj) with the unknown field, which
lies beyond it, of inscrutable non-human powers, whether we call
these gods or spirits or simply Fortune. This antithesis is more
frequently in Thucydides’ thoughts than any other, except the
famous contrast of word and deed. The two factors — yvcbjurj human
foresight, purpose, motive, and Tvyr\ unforeseen non-human agencies
— divide the field between them. They are the two factors, and
the only two, which determine the course of a series of events such
as a war ; neither Socrates nor Thucydides thinks of natural law.
One speaker after another in the History dwells on the contrast
between a man’s own yvcbjurj, over which he has complete control,
and Fortune, over which he has no control at all. . . . An examina-
tion of all the important passages where this contrast occurs has
convinced me that Thucydides does not mean by Fortune " the
operation of unknown (natural) causes ”, the working of ordinary
causal law in the universe. He is thinking of extraordinary,
sudden interventions of non-human agencies, occurring especially
at critical moments in warfare, or manifest from time to time in
convulsions of Nature. It is these irruptions, and not the normal
sway of “ necessary and permanent laws ”, that defeat the purposes
of human yvdjjurj , and together with yvw/irj are the sole determinant
factors in a series of human events. The normal, ordinary course
of Nature attracts no attention and is not felt to need explanation
or to be relevant in any way to human action. When Thucydides
speaks of the future as uncertain, he means not merely that it is
unknown, but that it is undetermined, and that human design
cannot be sure of completely controlling human events, because
other unknown and incalculable agencies may at any moment
intervene.’ No one will deny that the outlook of Thucydides was
as scientific as any to be found in the fifth century, and more scientific
than that of any later historian before Polybius. The above
account of his philosophy was written without any reference to
Plato’s ; but it now appears that there is a certain analogy between
the two. Thucydides sees the field of human action divided between
human foresight and chance ; Plato sees the world of physical
events divided between divine purpose and chance associated with
necessity.

That Necessity in Plato was the very antithesis of natural law
was clearly seen by Grote. ‘ This word (necessity) ’, he wrote, ‘ is

1 Mem. i, i.

REASON AND NECESSITY 47e-48e

now usually understood as denoting what is fixed, permanent,
unalterable, knowable beforehand. In the Platonic Timaeus it
means the very reverse : the indeterminate, the inconstant, the
anomalous, that which can be neither understood nor predicted.
It is Force, Movement, or Change, with the negative attribute of
not being regular, or intelligible, or determined by any knowable
antecedent or condition — vis consili expers * {Plato, iii, ch. 36).
Grote, however, attempted no explanation of this factor in Plato's
system. We may seek further light from the manner in which
Plato approaches the subject, where he distinguishes between two
types of causation, the divine and the necessary. At the end of
the first part, he has just described the mechanical processes
involved in the act of seeing — what happens to the rays of light
and colour in their commerce with the visual fire that streams out
from the eye. These physical transactions he then contrasts with
the true reason or explanation {alxla) of sight, the purpose it is
rationally designed to serve, namely to reveal to man the order
and harmony of the visible heavens. Thus the manner 4 how ' is
contrasted with the reason ‘ why \ Most men, he adds, imagine
that bodily processes, producing their effects without plan or
purpose, are the sole causes of everything. But the lover of
wisdom will seek first for the causation whose source lies in a self-
moving and intelligent soul, and only in the second place for the
causation characteristic of * things that are moved by others and
of necessity (e£ avdyxrjg) set yet other things in motion '. ‘ Causes

that work with intelligence to produce what is good and desirable *
must be distinguished from * those which, being destitute of reason,
produce their sundry effects at random and without order ' (to xvxov
dxaxxov e^eqyd^ovxai, 46E).

Here the lower type of causation, transmitting motion or change
from one body to another, is, in the same breath, declared to
proceed ‘ of necessity ' and ' at random and without order \ This
is the point rightly apprehended by Grote and emphasised by
Professor Taylor in opposition to the identification of Necessity
with natural law. But we could not follow Professor Taylor in
his reduction of Necessity to a residuum of hitherto unexplained
brute fact, which tends to vanish as our knowledge becomes more
complete. That interpretation was inspired by the wish to make
Plato's divine Reason an omnipotent ‘ God '. If it be accepted,
then in the actual world, apart from any question of the point to
which our knowledge has advanced, there will be no antagonist to
confront the Demiurge, no intractable material restricting the
effort of the craftsman to realise his design. * Plato ', he writes,

‘ emphatically does not mean that some things are due to intelligence

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REASON AND NECESSITY

and others to mere mechanism.1 * * “ Mechanism " comes in only as
the " subordinate ” of intelligent purpose, which is the “ principal ”
in all undertakings ' (p. 300). With complete knowledge (if we
could ever have it), Necessity, he holds, would * vanish from our
account of the world \ If so, then in the world as completely
known by God it can have no place at all.

The question whether this view is consistent with the whole
tenor of the Timaeus can only be decided by careful consideration
of many passages, upon which the reader must judge for himself
as he comes to them. It seems certain that the divine Craftsman
is in some degree a mythical figure ; taken literally, he has attributes
inappropriate to the Reason which Plato believed to be operative
in the world. The question at issue is now narrowed down to this :
Are we to regard the given material on which the divine Craftsman
works as mythical, in so far as it is represented as restricting his
purposes and preventing him from producing a world that is perfect
and not merely 4 as good as possible * ? Are there any forces now
and always at work in Nature, that are not completely subdued by
the persuasion of Reason ? It is hard to think that Plato would
have devoted a third part of the discourse to ' what comes about
of Necessity 1 in contrast with ‘ the works of Reason \ if he had
meant that nothing comes about of Necessity save under the
complete control of Reason. But the problem cannot be so easily
settled ; it must be left for discussion in detail. Here I can only
indicate, without meeting possible objections, what I believe to be
the true answers to the two remaining questions : (1) How is the
lower type of causation subordinated to the higher ? (2) What

is the permanent and irreducible factor confronting Reason and
never wholly subordinate ?

If, for the moment, we remain on the surface and take Plato's
analogy of the divine with the human craftsman at its face value,
it is easy to illustrate the subordination of necessity to purpose.
There is the necessity which Aristotle calls ' hypothetical ' in

1 It is hard for us to avoid the word ' mechanical ’, because, since Descartes
claimed : terram totumque hunc mundum instar machinae descripsi and still
more since the industrial revolution, scientific thought has been haunted by the

analogy of the machine and we connect the 4 laws of nature ’ with machine-like
regularity. But the ancients did not use machines driven by their own power
without human intervention ; they used only tools guided by manual skill and
intelligence. Such tools are means to the realisation of some designed order
in the passive material. So the notion of order is not associated with the
means, but with the designing intelligence and the end. It is characteristic
that Plato regards the exact precision of the stars’ movements as a proof
of their intelligence ( Laws 967B), not of their being subject to a mechanical

necessity.

P.C. 173 N

REASON AND NECESSITY 47e-48e

contrast to absolute necessity.1 This is the necessity of the in-
dispensable means to an end. Food is a necessary of life : we
must have food, if we are to live ; but it is not necessary that we
should live. If I wish to recover a debt, I may have to sail to
Aegina to find my debtor ; but nothing compels me to sail. The
necessity lies in the links connecting the purposing will at the begin-
ning of the chain with the attainment of the purpose at the end ;
we need not think of it as extending further in either direction.
Reason and will are conditioned by this concatenation of indispens-
able means. So is it with the craftsman. If I wish to cut wood,
I must make my saw of iron, not of wax. Iron has certain properties
of its own, indispensable for my purpose. On the other hand, I
can take advantage of this very fact to attain my end. I can
make use of those properties to cut wood, though the iron in itself
would just as soon cut my throat.

There is also the necessity residing in the properties themselves
and governing their action. Fire has the characteristic power
( bivapLU as Plato and others call it) of burning heat. Fire can
act only in one way ; it can heat other things, but not cool them.
By virtue of this necessity of the fire's own nature, its action is so
far regular. But just because it acts thus by constraint of its
nature, Plato describes such causation as aimless or ‘ wandering \
The action is blind and undirected by purpose. If I strike a match
to light a fire in my grate and warm myself, I am availing myself
of the fire's power. The fire is indifferent to my purpose and has
none of its own. If there is a wooden beam in my chimney, the
fire may go on to burn down the house — a result neither foreseen
nor desired. Once started by my voluntary action, the process of
combustion will go on of itself. I did not ordain that process and
it may get beyond my control. Yet, within certain limits I can
direct its action into a channel leading to a foreseen and purposed
end.

This notion of the hypothetical necessity of means to an end and
of the partial subordination of the given means goes back to the
Phaedo. Socrates complains that Anaxagoras, though he spoke of
Intelligence ordering all things, did not carry this idea into the
detailed account of the cosmos, or explain how every arrangement
was planned ' for the best '. He fell back on the blind and aimless
action of the elements. It was as if the presence of Socrates in
the prison should be attributed to the action of his muscles in
bringing him there, and not to his own purpose of abiding by
the sentence of the court because he judged it better to do so.
We ought to distinguish between the true reason or cause (atnov)

1 Metaph. A 5, where the various meanings of ‘ necessity ’ are distinguished.

174

REASON AND NECESSITY

and * that without which the cause would not be a cause \ It is
the same contrast of the end with the indispensable means, the
conditio sine qua non of the achievement of purpose. Socrates in
the Phaedo says that this distinction ought to be applied to the
explanation of the world as a whole, but that he himself had been
unable to attempt that task. It is the task which, many years
afterwards, Plato set himself to accomplish in the Timaeus. And
here in fact we find him speaking of the Demiurge as making use
of the lower kind of causes as auxiliaries (avvaina) or subordinate
instruments in his work of producing the best results possible
(e.g. at 46c).

The question still remains, whether the analogy between the
Demiurge and the human craftsman holds at this point or is to be
explained away. The carpenter does not make the wood or ordain
its natural properties and behaviour. Is the Demiurge in the
same position of having to make the best he can of not wholly
suitable materials, or did he himself endow the material he uses
with all its properties and make them completely amenable to his
own control ?

There is, indeed, one feature of the properties, once they exist,
which makes them not wholly amenable. Physical qualities occur
in groups of concomitants. The Timaeus contains an illustration
of the disadvantage that may result. The function of bone is to
protect from injury the seat of life, the brain and marrow. To
that end bone must be hard. But its very hardness makes it too
brittle and inflexible, and also liable to decay under excessive heat.
Accordingly the skeleton needs to be wrapped about with soft and
yielding flesh. The brittleness is a concomitant of the hardness,
and it can be described both as necessary or inevitable and as
1 accidental ’ (avfjtpeprjxog). The ideas of necessity and chance
are once more associated in the notion of the necessary accident.1
In this instance brittleness happens to he an inevitable but undesirable
concomitant of the useful quality, hardness. There is also the case
in which two properties which would both be useful cannot be
combined. We find, for example, that those parts of the body
which are the seats of intelligence, above all the skull, have the
thinnest covering of bone and flesh. ‘ The reason is that this
frame, which is born and compacted of necessity (ef dvdyxrjg), in
no wise allows dense bone and much flesh to go together with
keenly responsive sense-perception. For if these two characters
had consented to coincide (gUjisq djaa ov^nljiTeiv rjdehrjodrrjv),
the structure of the head would have possessed them above all,
and the human race, bearing a head fortified with flesh and

1 Cf. 77A, avvefiaLvev dm y

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47e-48e

REASON AND NECESSITY

sinew, would have enjoyed a life twice or many times as long as
now, healthier and more free from pain. But as it was, the
artificers who brought us into being reckoned whether they
shduld make a long-lived but inferior race or one with a shorter
span but nobler \ Here the two desirable characters refuse to
coincide as concomitants : they are incompatible. Necessity
cannot be wholly persuaded by Reason to bring about the
best result conceivable. Reason must be content to sacrifice the
less important advantage and achieve the best result attainable.
This last instance illustrates the truth of Galen's observation that
the Demiurge is not strictly omnipotent. In arranging the world
he could not group physical qualities in such a way as to secure all
the ends he desired.

But we are still talking in metaphor. We have seen reason to
regard the Demiurge, as such, as a mythical figure. Cosmos has
always existed. It had no beginning in time and therefore no
maker. The image of the craftsman is employed as the most
simple and vivid means of making us realise that the world was
not a chance product bom of aimless natural powers but exhibits
evidences of rational design, like a product of human art. There
is a divine Reason at work, aiming at the best possible. It does
not follow that this Reason stands to the world in precisely the
same relation as the human craftsman to his materials and his
product, though the craftsman may furnish the most convenient
illustration. These considerations affect the status of the other
factor, the craftsman's materials, or the chaos which confronts the
Demiurge and which he is said to ‘ take over in a state of disorderly
motion ' and reduce, so far as he can, to order. This chaos, again,
is not to be taken literally. If the cosmos had no beginning in
time, there never was a chaos before order was introduced. Chaos
can only stand for some factor in the world as it exists at all times.
The question then will be whether this factor is, now and always,
in some measure chaotic and disorderly, or is, now and always,
completely subordinate to the ends of Reason. It is here that I
differ from Professor Taylor, who holds that the subordination is
complete. The question cannot be argued till we come to the
interpretation of the relevant passages in the text. I will only
anticipate the conclusion so far as to say that, in my opinion, the
body of the universe is not reduced by Plato to mere extension,
but contains motions and active powers which are not instituted by
the divine Reason and are perpetually producing undesirable
effects. Further, since all physical motion has its ultimate source
in a living soul, these bodily motions and powers can only be
attributed to an irrational element in the World-Soul. It may be

176

THE RECEPTACLE

claimed that this theory preserves a sufficient and intelligible
meaning for the statement that this world is a mixed product of
the combination of Reason and Necessity — a Necessity that can
also be called an Errant Cause. But we must not forestall the
coming account of the Receptacle of Becoming and its chaotic
contents.

48E-49A. The Receptacle of Becoming

For his fresh starting-point, Timaeus goes back here to the very
beginning of his discourse : the distinction between the two orders
of existence, the intelligible and unchanging model and the changing
and visible copy. We now learn that the copy is not self-subsistent ;
it needs the support of a medium, just as a reflection requires a
mirror to hold it. Accordingly, a third factor has now to be added —
a factor which had no place in the first part among the creations
of Reason.

48E. Our new starting-point in describing the universe must, how-
ever, be a fuller classification than we made before. We
then distinguished two things ; but now a third must be
pointed out. For our earlier discourse the two were suffici-
ent : one postulated as model, intelligible and always
unchangingly real ; second, a copy of this model, which
49. becomes and is visible. A third we did not then distinguish,
thinking that the two would suffice ; but now, it seems, the
argument compels us to attempt to bring to light and describe
a form difficult and obscure. What nature must we, then,
conceive it to possess and what part does it play ? 1 This,
more than anything else : that it is the Receptacle — as it
were, the nurse — of all Becoming.

The third factor, not hitherto taken into account, is first presented
as the Receptacle or nurse of Becoming. This Receptacle and its
contents are to be analysed in a series of steps, which we shall do
well not to anticipate. For some time yet Plato does not use the
word ‘ Space ' ; it first occurs in the conclusion (52 a), led up to
by a series of images that are designed to elucidate gradually a
nature more ‘ obscure and difficult ' than geometrical space.

We may note here, however, that the hitherto unrecognised third

1 Svvaius, the active manifestation of the nature. Cf. Bvvafus used of the
‘ force ’ or significance of a word, and n)v rutv et kotcuv Aoytov Suva fuv (480), * the
worth of a probable account \ what it is good for ; also 64c, Sia to wupo? acpos
re cv aorot? Svva/xtv evccvat fxtylcrrrjv € because fire and air play the largest part
in them * (sight and hearing) .

1 77

THE RECEPTACLE

49a-50a

factor fills a gap in the scheme which Plato, in the Republic , had
borrowed from Parmenides. He had there described the realm of
objects of * opinion ' as intermediate between the perfectly real and
knowable and the wholly unreal and unknowable. But the Sophist
has shown that the wholly unreal (to navreXcoq ^rj Sv) cannot even
be named without self-contradiction. It is an absolute blank of
nothingness. If the perfectly real Forms are to have the objects
of opinion as images, there must be something, not totally unreal,
to receive these images. The question that now confronts us is,
what this Receptacle of eidola can be.

49A-50A. Fire, Air , etc., are names of qualities, not of substances

This question is first approached by a consideration of fire, air,
etc., as the contents of the Receptacle. The point is that these
are not permanent irreducible elements, not 4 things ' with a
constant nature. Plato rejects the old Milesian doctrine of a
single fundamental form of matter, which was to serve both as the
original state of things (agx'fj) and as the permanent ground (c pvaig )
underlying change. He also rejects the belief of the pluralists
who, in reply to Parmenides, had reduced all change to the re-
arrangement in space of the four elements (Empedocles) or of
‘ seeds 1 (Anaxagoras) or of atoms (Leucippus and Democritus).
Plato's position was nearer to that of Heraclitus, who alone had
rejected the notion of substance underlying change and had taught
the complete transformation of every form of body into every
other. We are now to think of qualities which are not also ‘ things '
or substances, but transient appearances in the Receptacle. The
Receptacle itself alone has some sort of permanent being.

49A. True, however, as this statement is, it needs to be put in
clearer language ; and that is hard, in particular because to
b. that end it is necessary to raise a previous difficulty 1 about
fire and the things that rank with fire. It is hard to say,
with respect to any one of these, which we ought to call
really water rather than fire, or indeed which we should call
by any given name rather than by all the names together
or by each severally, so as to use language in a sound and
trustworthy way. How, then, and in what terms are we to

1 With irpoanofrqdijvcu and Sta7 ropvjdevres ( b , 7) compare Aristotle, Met. B, i,
‘For those who wish to get clear of difficulties (eu7 ropijaat) it is advantageous
to state the difficulties (h<,<nroprjaai) well ; for the subsequent free play of
thought (cviTopia) implies the solution of the previous difficulties.’ Only to
the man who has first faced the difficulties (rep 7rpor)7roprjK6Tt) is it clear, what
goal he is making for.

THE RECEPTACLE

49B. speak of this matter, and what is the previous difficulty that
may be reasonably stated ?

In the first place, take the thing we now call water. This,
when it is compacted, we see (as we imagine) becoming
earth and stones, and this same thing, when it is dissolved

c. and dispersed, becoming wind and air ; air becoming fire by
being inflamed ; and, by a reverse process, fire, when con-
densed and extinguished, returning once more to the form
of air, and air coming together again and condensing as mist
and cloud ; and from these, as they are yet more closely
compacted, flowing water ; and from water once more earth
and stones : and thus, as it appears, they transmit in a cycle
the process of passing into one another. Since, then, in this

d. way no one of these things ever makes its appearance as the
same thing, which of them can we stedfastly affirm to be
this — whatever it may be — and not something else, without
blushing for ourselves ? It cannot be done ; but by far the
safest course is to speak of them in the following terms.
Whenever we observe a thing perpetually changing — fire, for
example — in every case we should speak of fire,1 not as
* this ', but as * what is of such and such a quality \2 nor of
water as ‘ this \ but always as ‘ what is of such and such a
quality ' ; nor must we speak of anything else as having
some permanence, among all the things we indicate by the

E. expressions ‘ this * or * that *, imagining we are pointing out
some definite thing. For they slip away and do not wait
to be described as ‘ that ' or * this ’ 3 or by any phrase that
exhibits them as having permanent being. We should not
use these expressions of any of them, but * that which is of
a certain quality and has the same sort of quality as it
perpetually recurs in the cycle 1 — that 4 is the description we
should use in the case of each and all of them. In fact, we
must give the name 4 fire ’ to that which is at all times 5 of

1 7 rvp after 7rpocrayop€i/€iv (d, 6) should perhaps be omitted.

2 to tolovtov, a general expression for nvpcuSrjs, vSarcoSrjs, etc. Cf. Chalcid.
non est ignis sed igneum quiddam , nec aer sed aerium.

3 I omit Kai rwSe, as no convincing translation or correction of the
words has yet been proposed. Tr.'s /cat rijv rovde (‘ of this ’ = relative to this)
is perhaps the best ; but nothing in the context supports it.

4 Taking ovro> (before /caActv) as resuming the long phrase that precedes.
to tolovtov del 7r€pL<f>€pop.€vov oplolov is rightly explained by Tr. : * the this-like
which ever recurs as similar act can mean either * from time to time ' or
‘ perpetually \

5 There is at all times (8ta rravros) a certain amount of stuff that is fiery.
This quality is sufficiently ‘ alike ' (opunov) to be recognised and named, though
it is not an enduring substance, and is perpetually varying.

179

THE RECEPTACLE

49a-50a

49E. such and such a quality ; and so with anything else that is
in process of becoming. Only in speaking of that in which
all of them are always coming to be, making their appearance
and again vanishing out of it, may we use the words ‘ this *
50. or ‘ that ' ; we must not apply any of these words to that
which is of some quality — hot or cold or any of the opposites —
or to any combination of these opposites.1

The result so far is that fire and the rest are denied the status
of elements or permanent things with an unchanging character.
Their apparent 2 * transformation in a cycle is described in terms
borrowed from Anaximenes and Anaxagoras. Anaximenes had
conceived that all things at all times really are air. Air is the
permanent nature ; fire is air in a rarefied state ; when more closely
packed, air becomes successively wind, cloud, water, earth, stone.
Anaximenes thus took a step towards the doctrine clearly formu-
lated after Parmenides, that qualitative change is reducible to the
bringing together or separation in space of a number of unalterable
elements. Anaxagoras, who explicitly identified all so-called
* becoming and perishing ’ with the combination and separation of
permanently real things, used similar language : ‘ From these

things as they are separated off, earth is compacted. For out of
clouds water is separated off, and from water earth, and from earth
stones are compacted by the cold/ Empedocles also tried to
abolish change of quality by reducing ‘ becoming and perishing *
to the mixture and interchange of his four unalterable things, fire,
air, water, earth.

Plato rejects this interpretation, asserting the contrary view
that there is change of quality without any underlying substance
or permanent ground. The word 4 quality ' (nodrrjg) had been
introduced for the first time at Theaetetus 182 a, with an apology
for its uncouthness. In pre-Socratic thought ' the hot ', ' the cold \
etc., had been treated as things (xoviuara) having each a character-
istic power (dvva/ug) in which its nature was manifested by action
on other things. The coining of the word * quality ' (noio-rrjg,
such-and-such-ness) as a general expression for hotness, coldness,

1 00a €K tovtcuv . This may mean that fire (for instance) is a combination
of sensible qualities, such as ' hot * yellow ' (or orange or blue), etc., making
up that ‘ fieriness ' (to toiovtov) which is sufficiently alike (ofioiov) for us to
distinguish it from wateriness and other combinations of qualities. But the
phrase might also cover compound bodies, mixtures of the four primary
bodies.

2 At 54B it will be remarked (as ws Bokova , 49B, 8, and u>$ <j>aiv€rai, c, 7,
hint) that the transformation is not so complete as it appears. Earth cannot

be transformed into the other three.

180

THE RECEPTACLE

whiteness {OeQfio-Trjg, ipvxQo-Trjg, Xevxo-xrjq), etc., marks the clear dis-
tinction of qualities from ‘ things ’ or substances. Plato is now
asserting that ‘ fire ' is properly only a name for a certain combina-
tion of qualities or ‘ powers ', which appear and disappear and are
always varying. Such groups of qualities, though perpetually
shifting, are sufficiently alike to be indicated by names ; but in
referring to fire we ought not strictly to say ‘ this (thing) ', because
the phrase suggests something which preserves a constant identity.
We are to get rid of the notion of material substance.

In contrast with this stream of fluctuating qualities stands that
in which 1 they make their transient appearances. The Receptacle
is the only factor in the bodily that may be called ‘ this ’, because
it has permanent being and its nature does not change. What
this Receptacle is, we do not yet know. Later on, when the
Demiurge intervenes to introduce an element of rational order, he
will form the primary bodies by fashioning for them geometrical
shapes (53B). But here we are considering the bodily as it was
* before * the Heaven was made. We must not imagine the qualities
here described as existing in particles of any shape, regular or
otherwise. There is nothing yet but a flux of shifting qualities,
appearing and vanishing in a permanent Receptacle.

There is no justification for calling the Receptacle 4 matter ’ — a
term not used by Plato. The Receptacle is not that ‘ out of which '
(H ov) things are made ; it is that ‘ in which * (iv a>) qualities
appear, as fleeting images are seen in a mirror. It is the qualities,
not the Receptacle, that constitute * the bodily * (to acojuaroeidig).
The term was used at 31B : ' That which comes to be must be
bodily and so visible and tangible ; and nothing can be visible
without fire or tangible without earth/ The contents of the
Receptacle will presently be called ' bodies ' (acb/xara 50B), but we
must beware of taking this to mean * particles ’, as if the qualities
had already received shapes.

50A-C. The Receptacle compared to a mass of plastic material

Turning now from the contents to the Receptacle, Plato begins
to illustrate its nature by an image which, as he admits, is in some
respects misleading. It is compared to a mass of plastic material,
moulded and remoulded into various shapes. The nature of the
material (gold) is permanent ; the shapes are formed only to be
obliterated and give place to others.

1 49E, eV co iyyiyvo fxcva <£avra£€Ttu. This phrase ev <5 is consistently used in
the following context to mean the Receptacle as a whole, not particular
‘ volumes in which events of a certain type take place This is one of Tr.'s
importations from Whitehead (pp. 320-1).

l8l

THE RECEPTACLE 50a-c

50A. But I must do my best to explain this thing once more in
still clearer terms.

Suppose a man had moulded figures of all sorts out of
gold,1 and were unceasingly to remould each into all the

b. rest : then, if you should point to one of them and ask what
it was, much the safest answer in respect of truth would be
to say ‘ gold ', and never to speak of a triangle or any of the
other figures that were coming to be in it as things that
have being,2 since they are changing even while one is
asserting their existence. Rather one should be content if
they so much as consent to accept the description ‘ what is
of such and such a quality 1 with any certainty. Now the
same thing must be said of that nature which receives all
bodies. It must be called always the same ; for it never
departs at all from its own character ; since it is always
receiving all things, and never in any way whatsoever takes

c. on any character that is like any of the things that enter it :
by nature it is there as a matrix for everything, changed and
diversified by the things that enter it, and on their account
it appears to have different qualities at different times ;
while the things that pass in and out are to be called copies
of the eternal things, impressions taken from them in a
strange manner that is hard to express : we will follow it up
on another occasion.3

Some critics have seen in this passage references to the later confi-
guration of space by the geometrical shapes of the primary corpuscles.4

1 ck x/wo-ou. The figures are made out of gold and consist of gold ; but
the contents of the Receptacle are not made out of it. This is a point where
the illustration is inadequate.

* fjL7]b€TTOT€ Ac'yeiv ravra us ovra can also be construed : * never to speak of
a triangle, etc., as these (things), as though they had being and the contrast
with toiovtov following perhaps favours this.

3 The reference may be to 52c (A-H.), or the promise may be unfulfilled (Tr.).

4 Thus Baeumker ( Prob . d. Mat. 131) identifies the ‘ things that pass in
and out ' of the Receptacle with those shapes composed of elementary triangles.
Tr. (rightly, I think) explains the transient * characters ' as * the character-
istics of different sensible bodies, in fact the various sounds, colours, scents,
etc., revealed to us in different regions ' (p. 326). But he adds that ‘ since
Timaeus means at a later stage to account for all these qualities as con-
sequences of the shapes of corpuscles, to all intents and purposes what he
wants to insist on is that space itself has no specific “ shape " of its own.
He means, then, that space in all its regions is uniform or homogeneous.
If it were not, its parts would not be indifferent to all configurations'. Tr.
then strays into a discussion of modem non-uniform spaces — alternatives
which Plato cannot have intended to exclude, because they could never have
entered his mind.

182

THE RECEPTACLE

But, since nothing has yet been said even about space, no one
reading the Timaeus for the first time could associate the triangles
and other figures moulded in the gold with the elementary
triangles and solids later constructed by the Demiurge ; nor
did Plato intend this. The figures mentioned belong solely to
the illustration, the point of which is that the only thing we can
call ' this * and so treat as a thing with permanent properties of
its own is the gold, not the shapes which are moulded, effaced, and
remoulded. Similarly the Receptacle has a nature of its own,
from which it never departs.

What corresponds to the figures of the illustration is ' the things
that pass into and out of ' the Receptacle. What these things are
we have been plainly told in the preceding paragraph ; they are
those qualities — * any opposite or combination of opposites ' —
which ‘ are always coming to be in the Receptacle, making their
appearance, and again vanishing out of it ’ (49E). This was clear
to some at least of the ancient commentators. A fragment of the
lost part of Proclus’ commentary 1 reads : ‘ Perhaps it is better to
say that the term “ things that pass in and out M is applied not
only to the qualities (ai TtoLotrjreg ), but also to the forms immersed
in matter (ra eidrj ra SvvXa) ; for these, not the qualities, are like-
nesses (ojuoLcojuara) of the intelligible things ' (i.e. rcov dvrcov del /upuj-
jbtara , 50c, 5). It is clear that Proclus had been discussing a current
view that the qualities alone were meant. Proclus' further remarks
show that by ‘ the forms immersed in matter ' (an Aristotelian
phrase) he means copies, present in matter, of the eternal Forms of
Fire, Air, Water, and Earth (not of any other Forms). He discusses
whither these copies go, when they ' pass out \ Not into other
matter ; ‘ for when fire is quenched and the matter becomes airy,
we do not see other matter being kindled \ They must pass out
simply into non-existence.2 Proclus no doubt had in mind the

1 Pr. iii, 357. This fragment and the other references to our passage in
Proclus’ commentary have been overlooked.

2 Other passages in Proclus referring to this subject are : i, 233s4, ‘Some
forms (elhrj) are inseparable from matter and are always coming into being
from that which always is ; others come to be and pass away in time : thus
corporeality (rj ocofjLaTOTrjs) is always becoming and always in the region of
matter ; but the form ( character , ethos) of fire or air enters matter and passes
out, being separated and perishing owing to the victory of the opposite nature .*
i, 41928, ‘ The eternally real was the model of unordered becoming, since it
was from thence that the unarticulated forms ( characters , ahiapdpuira elhrj) came
to be present in the unordered before the Heaven came into being.’ These are
the ' traces of the elements ’ (ra lyyri rwv crro^c/cov — a reference to *xyrj at
53B, 2). ii, 25® : In the case of fire there is (1) the form (ethos), an indivisible
nature, the image of the cause of fire ; for there is a certain indivisible thing
(the ethos ewXov) even in divisible things ; from this results (2) an extension

183

THE RECEPTACLE

50a-c

theory of Forms as it is stated towards the end of the Phaedo
There the immutable and eternal Form is clearly distinguished
from the character (juoQ<prj , idia) present in things that are said tc
partake of the Form and bear the same name. Some such char-
acters are grouped in pairs of opposites, tall and short, hot and cold,
One member of such a pair will never admit its opposite : * the
hot in us * can never become cold ; when we become cold, the hot
character must either ‘ withdraw 1 to make way for the cold, or it
must ‘ perish Proclus decides for the latter alternative : what
he calls the 4 character immersed in matter * must, he says, ' pass
out * into non-existence. His distinction between ‘ the form (char-
acter) immersed in matter * and the ‘ quality ’ is a piece of Neo-
platonic subtlety. Plato speaks of the qualities as * characters ’
( fjLOQyai , ideat), as he had in the Phaedo , where fjtoQqyrj and Idia are
used interchangeably and neither can mean ‘ shape \x The things
that pass into and out of the Receptacle are simply the opposite
qualities or groups of qualities characteristic of the four primary
bodies. They are called here ' copies of the eternal things ' ; and
at 51B ' copies ’ of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth, just before the
passage which plainly asserts the existence of their originals, the
intelligible Forms of just those four bodies. The Forms, ‘ in some
strange manner that is hard to express \ impress their characteristic
qualities on the Receptacle. But the Receptacle does not itself
possess any of these characters or qualities, any more than gold in
itself possesses triangular shape. The qualities do not belong to
it ; they only pass in and out, like images crossing a mirror. They

of itself in the matter of the fire, and from this again (3) the powers
of fire, or qualities (volottjtcs) such as hotness, etc. (This is part of a mis-
guided attempt to interpret the dpiQpoi, oyKoi, and hwapcis of 30c, but it
shows what Proclus m6ant by his distinction of the ethos ewXov from the
7roi6rrjT€s or hwapcis)- The phrase ‘ unarticulated forms ' means the
qualities as described at 52 d ff., before the Demiurge endows them with

* geometrical shape and number

Simplicius, Phys. 539, 10, says that Plato in the Timaeus calls matter
X<hpav Kal ronov t<vv cvvXojv clhcov. It appears from 540, 13 ff., that this phrase
ewXa €1817 was partly based on 53B, 4> hicox^pariaaTo ctheol re Kal dpiffpois,
which, in fact, refers to the geometrical shapes ; partly on 51 a, 7, pcraXapPdvov
avopwrara 7rp rod votjtov, which Aristotle took as meaning that the Recipient
partakes of the Forms (see p. 187).

1 There is, for example, * the character of three ' (17 t&v rpi&v 1 Bca (104D)),
the characters of evenness and oddness, and so on. The words are inter-
changed, e.g. at 104D, 17 cvavrta ihea ckcLv 77 777 pop^fj. The term dSos is there
reserved for the Form to which the character belongs, because the distinction
is important to the argument (see especially 103E) ; but in the Timaeus
Plato follows his usual practice of eschewing precise terminology, and uses
ethos for character as well as pop^rj and Ihca. A.-H. imports the word

* shape ' for yuop<pr\ (c, 1), and so does Tr.

184

THE RECEPTACLE

are said to * change and diversify ’ 1 the Receptacle ; they form a
constantly shifting pattern, * presenting all diversities of aspect 1
(d, 5), as some parts become fiery, others watery, and so on.

The Receptacle has no qualities of its own

The illustration of the man moulding all sorts of figures out of
gold was sufficient for its purpose, to illustrate the contrast between
the permanent nature of the Receptacle and the shifting qualities.
Its defect is that gold is a stuff that has sensible qualities of its
own, persisting through all the variations of shape. Aristotle's
objections to the illustration turn partly on this point.2 But Plato
himself proceeds to correct the defect. He has already said that
the Receptacle does not in itself possess any of the characters that
pass in and out, any more than gold as such possesses any of the
shapes. It is now added that the Receptacle has no characters
of its own 4 * before ’ the qualities enter it, unlike the gold which has
its own sensible properties.3

Before making this point, Plato introduces the image of the
father, the mother, and the child, to illustrate the relations of the
eternal Form, the Receptacle, and Becoming.

50c. Be that as it may, for the present we must conceive three
things : that which becomes ; that in which it becomes ;

D. and the model in whose likeness that which becomes is born.4
Indeed we may fittingly compare the Recipient to a mother,
the model to a father, and the nature that arises between
them to their offspring. Further we must observe 6 that,
if there is to be an impress presenting all diversities of aspect,
the thing itself in which the impress comes to be situated,

1 50c, KLVOVfieVOV T€ KCLl 8ld(JX'r)fJ'aTL£6lJ'*vov V7TO TOJV CIOXOVTCDV. kIvTJOIS IS

used as the general word for ‘ change * (with its two species, locomotion and
qualitative change) at Parm. 138B, Theaet. i8id. BiaaxrjfMari^eadai, is used
below (53B) of the pattern introduced by the creation of geometrical shapes ;
but oxvfia means appearance, manner, fashion, mode, etc., as well as shape,
though no doubt the analogous figures (axwara) moulded in the gold suggested
the word. Different qualities affecting different parts of a space must diversify
it and form some kind of pattern, however vague in outline and irregular.
Cf. the phrases iSeiv ttqikLXov 7raaas noiKiMas (50D, 5) and iravroSairriv iSeiv
(fxxlvtodai (52E, i).

2 They are summarised by Tr., p. 322.

8 Cf. Baeumker (Prob. d . Mat. 132), whose analysis of the whole argument
here is helpful, though I cannot accept all his conclusions.

4 <f>v€rai, ‘ born \ The next sentence takes up this metaphor as furnishing

an appropriate image, which replaces that of the craftsman.

6 vorjaai depends in thought rather on the XPV at c> 7 * than on irplnct, and
perhaps also in grammar, the remark about the ‘ fittingness * of the metaphor
in </>verat being treated as parenthetical.

185

THE RECEPTACLE

50c-51b

50D. cannot have been duly prepared unless it is free from all
E. those characters which it is to receive from elsewhere. For
if it were like any one of the things that come in upon it,
then, when things of contrary or entirely different nature
came, in receiving them it would reproduce them badly,
intruding its own features alongside. Hence that which is
to receive in itself all kinds 1 must be free from all char-
acters ; just like the base which the makers of scented
ointments skilfully contrive to start with : they make the
liquids that are to receive the scents as odourless as possible.
Or again, anyone who sets about taking impressions of shapes
in some soft substance, allows no shape to show itself there
beforehand, but begins by making the surface as smooth and
51. level as he can. In the same way, that which is duly to
receive over its whole extent and many times over all the
likenesses of the intelligible 2 and eternal things ought in its
own nature to be free of all the characters. For this reason,
then, the mother and Receptacle of what has come to be
visible and otherwise sensible must not be called earth or
air or fire or water, nor any of their compounds or com-
ponents 3 ; but we shall not be deceived if we call it a nature
invisible and characterless, all-receiving, partaking in some
b. very puzzling way of the intelligible and very hard to appre-
hend. So far as its nature can be arrived at from what has

is (as often) simply a synonym of lS4a, floppy, etSos (character).
Plato varies the word, just as above (d, 7) he writes apopfov arracrcov ra>v ISediu
( = iiop<f>u)v). None of the four words here means the eternal Form ; for
this is never ‘ received ' by the Receptacle. Note also that ox^jpa (‘ shape ')
is not used as a synonym for any of them, but confined to the shapes moulded
in gold or in some soft substance in the two illustrations (50A and 50E, 8).

* The conjecture votjt&v (for 77-avTtuv) act re ovtcov can be supported by the
occurrence of the phrase at 37A, 1. But ttq.vtidv or ndvra is required by the
sense. I suggest rep <ra irav^a tujv votjtcov act re ovtcjv. The Receptacle is to
receive all the likenesses of the Forms concerned (the four primary bodies),
rather than likenesses of all the Forms there are. Cf. e, 5, to rd vavra

8 ‘ Compounds ’, i.e. complex bodies formed of more than one of the four
primary bodies. * Components ", i.e. any qualities into which what we call
‘ fire ' or ‘ fieriness ' (etc.) might be analysed, e.g. the heat, yellowness, etc.,
of flame. Cf. 50A, 3, 00a 4k tovtojv, where tovtcdv means the opposites (hot,
white, etc.), of which fire, etc., are composed. This statement formally
excludes the notion that the Receptacle is some subtler or more ultimate
kind of matter (such as ‘ the hot ', ' the cold ’, etc.) beyond the four primary
bodies (cf. Fraccaroli, p. 89). At Sophist 243 the view that * the hot and
the cold ' are the ultimately real things in nature is taken as typical of aU
the early physicists. There is no reference to the triangles of which the
elementary figures are later to be composed, since these have not yet been
mentioned.

186

THE RECEPTACLE

51B. already been said, the most correct account of it would be
this : that part of it which has been made fiery appears at
any time as fire ; the part that is liquefied as water ; and
as earth or air such parts as receive likenesses of these.

The argument that the Receptacle must not possess in itself any
quality like those which enter it, is preceded by the comparison of
the eternal Form to the father and of the Receptacle to the mother.
The connection of thought implies a current view of the part played
by the mother in generation. In the Eumenides (660) Apollo
argues that 4 the mother of what is called her child is no parent
(roxeijQ), but only the nurse (TQo<pog) of the new life sown in her.
The parent is the begetter ; she is but a host (£dvrj) harbouring
the stranger plant \ Similarly, according to Diodorus (i. 80), the
Egyptians regarded no child as a bastard, holding that the father
is the sole cause of generation, while the mother furnishes only
nourishment (jQocprj) and room (%(joqcl) for the infant. The belief is
mentioned several times by Aristotle, who debates whether the
female contributes anything to generation or only provides the
place (tojioq). He gives it as the opinion of Anaxagoras and other
physicists that the seed comes from the male, the female only
furnishing the place.1 So here the Receptacle or ‘ nurse ’ (TiOrjvrj,
49A) of Becoming is simply the place ‘ in which ’ the qualities
appear. If it had any qualities of its own, it would intrude its
own features or visible appearance (dfig), as the mother's features
might be expected to reappear in the child, if she contributes any
part of its substance.

The Receptacle, then, has no visible appearance ; but is ‘ a
nature invisible and characterless, all-receiving, partaking in some
very puzzling way of the intelligible and very hard to apprehend * .
‘ Partaking of the intelligible ' is, unfortunately, an ambiguous
phrase. Some have understood it as referring to ‘ the real informing
of matter by the Ideas * 2 ; but Archer-Hind remarks that Plato's

1 de gen anim. A19, init., Bi, 763 b, 30. The doctrine is still held by the
natives of S.E. Australia : * children emanate from the father alone and are
merely nurtured by the mother ’ (Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy i, 338.
Contrast the Central Tribes who are ignorant that the father plays any part
in begetting) . In the Life of Johnson Boswell defends his ‘ partiality for
heirs male ’ by ‘ the opinion of some distinguished naturalists that our species
is transmitted through males only, the female being all along no more than
a nidus or nurse, as Mother Earth is to plants of every sort It follows that
* a man's grandson by a daughter has in reality no connection whatever with
his blood

a So Zeller ; Baeumker ( Prob . d. Mat. 133) ; Aristotle Phys. iv, 2, 209 b, 12,
Plato identified matter and space, to yap pLeTaXrjTmKov teal rrjv ywpav cv kcu
ravrov (Simpl., Phys. 542 : He calls it to fxcTaXrjTnLKov in the Timaeus,
/Lt€TaAa/xj3av€i yap ‘ aTTopayrara rrj] tov votjtov *). Tr. (p. 331) agrees with A.-H.

187

51b-e

FORMS OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

meaning is more fully expressed at 52B, where Space is said to be
' apprehended without the senses by a sort of bastard reasoning \
To ' partake of the intelligible ' will then mean * to be an object of
rational thought *, as opposed to being an object of the senses.
Further discussion may be postponed to that later passage where
Space has at last been mentioned.

In the present passage (where Space has not been mentioned)
the words eldog , Idda , /xogcpij, still bear the sense implied by the
whole context : they mean sensible qualities, not * shapes \ The
last sentence speaks of part of the Receptacle being made fiery,
part liquefied (made watery), and so on. The same language is
used of the chaos described at 52D as existing before the Heaven
was made or the Demiurge had designed the geometrical figures of
the primary bodies. Plato’s point is that the Receptacle has no
inherent sensible qualities of its own, not that ' Space has no
specific “ shape ” of its own ’, or that ‘ we are not allowed to account
for exceptional " appearances ” in any region, as those who think
of space as having a variable curvature would like to do, by suggest-
ing that this region has a " different ” geometry from others \1
It is a much more tenable position that, according to Plato, Space
has a shape of its own, being coextensive with the spherical universe,
outside which there is neither body nor void.2

51B-E. Ideal models of Fire, Air, Water, Earth

Plato has just spoken of * copies ’ {fufiTj^ar a) of Fire, Air, Water,
and Earth being ‘ received ’ by the Receptacle. This leads to the
next question : Are there models to serve as originals for these
copies ?

51B. But in pressing our inquiry about them, there is a question
that must rather be determined by argument.3 Is there
such a thing as ‘ Fire just in itself ’ or any of the other
things which we are always describing in such terms, as

c. things that * are just in themselves ’ ? Or are the things
we see or otherwise perceive by the bodily senses the only
things that have such reality,4 and has nothing else, over

1 Tr., pp. 326, 328.

* See F. M. Cornford, The Invention of Space, Essays in honour of Gilbert
Murray, Oxford, 1936.

* The emphasis falls, by position, on A oycp, ' by argument *, as opposed to
* what can be gathered from our earlier statements ’ in the previous sen-
tence. Cf. the contrast of 6 opdos Xoyos (A 6yos in the true sense) and 6 cIku>s
(56b, 4).

4 roiavTTjv aXydciav, the independent and absolute reality, just mentioned,
such as we ascribe to Forms. So Stailbaum, A.-H.

188

FORMS OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

51c. and above these, any sort of being at all ? Are we talking
idly whenever we say that there is such a thing as an
intelligible Form of anything ? Is this nothing more than
a word ?

Now it does not become us either to dismiss the present
question without trial or verdict, simply asseverating that
it is so, nor yet to insert a lengthy digression into a discourse

d. that is already long. If we could see our way to draw a
distinction 1 of great importance in few words, that would
best suit the occasion. My own verdict, then, is this. If
intelligence and true belief are two different kinds, then these
things — Forms that we cannot perceive but only think of —
certainly exist in themselves ; but if, as some hold, true
belief in no way differs from intelligence, then all the things
we perceive through the bodily senses must be taken as the
most certain reality. Now we must affirm that they are

e. two different things, for they are distinct in origin and unlike
in nature. The one is produced in us by instruction, the
other by persuasion ; the one can always give a true account
of itself, the other can give none ; the one cannot be shaken
by persuasion, whereas the other can be won over ; and true
belief, we must allow, is shared by all mankind, intelligence
only by the gods and a small number of men.

The alternative to be determined by argument is : whether those
combinations of qualities which we call bodies and which we see
or otherwise perceive through the bodily senses 2 have a fully
substantial existence in their own right, or are (as we have called
them) only copies of independently existing Forms. The language
closely resembles Parm. i30Dff., where Parmenides questions
Socrates as to the extent of the world of Forms. Socrates has no
doubt that there are separate Forms of terms such as Likeness,
Unity, Plurality, and also of moral terms, Just, Good, etc. He is
doubtful about Forms such as Man ‘ separate from ourselves and
all other men ', and Fire, Water, etc. This class corresponds to
the products of divine workmanship at Sophist 266B : * ourselves
and all other living creatures and the elements of natural things —
fire, water, and their kindred \ Living organisms and the four

1 opov opileiv, to draw a boundary-line (cf. Gorg . 470B) ; in this case the
boundary between the two orders of existence, corresponding to the two
kinds of apprehension next mentioned.

2 The description shows that the ‘ copies ' are not the shapes of the corpuscles
of primary bodies, but the qualities which we perceive when we say ‘ Fire
is here \ We do not perceive the corpuscles or their shapes.

P.C. 189

FORMS OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

primary bodies of which all other bodies are composed are the two
classes of things in the physical world with the best claim to
separate Forms. When it comes to hair, dirt, and other such un-
dignified things, Socrates at first thinks it would be absurd to
postulate Forms ; these must be no more than ' just the things
we see

The present passage is concerned mainly with Forms of the
primary bodies ; and the reality of these Forms is affirmed on the
same general grounds that make it necessary to believe in any
Forms whatsoever. As in Republic v, the existence of two orders
of objects — intelligible and sensible — is declared to follow from the
indubitable distinction between rational understanding or know-
ledge and mere belief, which can be produced or shaken by per-
suasion. This characteristic of belief, even when true, was taken in
the Theaetetus (201A) as fatal to the claim of true belief to rank as
knowledge. Belief, moreover, can ' give no account of itself \
This characteristic is best illustrated by the Meno. The slave
questioned by Socrates has produced true beliefs about the solution
of a problem in geometry ; but they will not become knowledge
until he has been taken many times through the whole demonstra-
tion, grasped all the premisses, and seen how the conclusion must
inevitably follow. His beliefs will then be unshakably secured ' by
reflection on the reason' (Meno, 85c ft., 97 e).

It is certain, then, that there are independently real Forms of
Fire, Air, Water, and Earth. Fire ‘ just in itself ' is an eternal
model, an object of intelligence, not of perception. We have been
told that the name ' Fire * is to be given to that which is of a certain
quality, appearing in the Receptacle at any time in the cycle of
change. This quality is the copy, bearing the same name as its
model ; the model itself is the meaning of the name ‘ Fire more
or less clearly present to our thought whenever we use the word.
Plato tells us nothing further as to its nature. It cannot be
identified with the pyramid, the geometrical shape of the fire
corpuscle. When we look at a fire, we do not see or think of
pyramids ; and when we say c Here is fire ' we do not mean * Here
are pyramids'. What we perceive is a certain combination of
shifting qualities in a certain place at a certain time — the yellowness
we see, the hotness we feel. Such a combination, whenever and
wherever it occurs, is sufficiently ‘ alike ' for us to name it * fire \
and it is a fleeting copy or impress of an unchanging model. More
than this Plato cannot tell us. We must not hope to get nearer

* 1 J*arm’ I3OD/ radra pdv yt arrcp opwficv, ravra *ai that,, ctSos Si n aura)*'
€Tp at Map fj drorrov. Cf. 51c, rj ravra dn*p koX 0A irropxv . . .
p6va ioriv rouivrqv ^ovra aMfittav.

190

FORM, COPY, AND SPACE

to his thought by translating his words into language that sounds
to us scientific.1 * *^

There is no warrant for A.-H/s remark that * the list of ideas in
the Timaeus includes, in addition to the ideas of living creatures,
only the ideas of fire, air, water and earth ' (p. 180). In his intro-
duction he goes further and suggests that Plato ought to have
eliminated ideal types of the elements and would have eliminated
them, * had his attention been drawn to the subject * (p. 35).*
The unprejudiced reader may think that his attention was very
clearly drawn to the subject in the passage before us. Nor will
the Platonist easily believe that living creatures and the primary
bodies alone have ideal Forms. How are mathematics and dialectic
to be carried on, if the only unchanging objects of thought are the
natural kinds of living creatures and the four primary bodies ?
These are specially relevant to an account of the physical universe,
and are therefore prominent in the Timaeus . We cannot infer that
Plato no longer believed that there was such a thing as Justice
' just in itself ' or the Triangle * just in itself \ The Philebus and
the Laws would not bear out such a conclusion.

51E-52D. Summary description of the three factors ; Form , Copy ,
and Space as the Receptacle

In the foregoing sections we started with the notion of a Receptacle
of Becoming ; then passed to its contents, the sensible qualities

1 Tr. (p. 334), for instance, says : ‘ The question is whether there is or is

not a standard of scientific truth by which individuals can and ought to

correct the deliverances of their senses.’ 4 Fire means the occurrence of
events with some definite law or pattern in a region of the continuum, water
the appearance of events of a different determinate pattern. It follows at
once that only when this pattern is exactly realised do you have 44 real " or
44 pure " fire or water. If it is only imperfectly realised, you have not 44 pure ”
fire or water, just as we should say that “ water ” which proved on analysis
not to be composed of hydrogen and oxygen in the proportions determined
by the chemists is not 44 pure " water, but has 44 impurities Plato’s phrase

4 Fire just in itself ’ means, according to Tr., 4 “ fire which is just fire," 44 fire
with no admixture of anything else ", exactly as we speak of 41 pure water ",
44 pure atmospheric air ", 44 pure gold ".' This account is in danger of sug-
gesting a confusion between an exact realisation of the pattern and the
pattern itself. When we speak of 4 pure water ’ we mean something which,
supposing it to exist, would be a perceptible thing which we could touch and
drink.

Robin’s account of the Form of Fire ( Phys . de Platon 49) keeps nearer to
Plato’s own account, but involves theories about mathematical intermediates
between Forms and sensibles and about Ideal Numbers which are too specula-
tive for the scope of this book.

a In the Journal of Philol. xxiv, pp. 49 ff., Archer-Hind went the whole way
and denied that the ontology of the Timaeus allows room for these ideas.

191

51e-52d

FORM, COPY, AND SPACE

and their combinations, and finally to the ideal models. Next
follows a summary description of these three factors, in the reverse
order.

51E. This being so, we must agree that there is, first, the unchang-
52. ing Form, ungenerated and indestructible, which neither
receives anything else into itself from elsewhere nor itself
enters into anything else anywhere, invisible and otherwise
imperceptible ; that, in fact, which thinking has for its
object.

Second is that which bears the same name and is like that
Form ; is sensible ; is brought into existence ; is perpetually
in motion, coming to be in a certain place and again vanishing
out of it ; and is to be apprehended by belief involving
perception.

Third is Space, which is everlasting,1 not admitting destruc-

b. tion ; providing a situation for all things that come into
being, but itself apprehended without the senses by a sort
of bastard reasoning, and hardly an object of belief.

This, indeed, is that which we look upon as in a dream 2
and say that anything that is must needs be in some place
and occupy some room, and that what is not somewhere in
earth or heaven is nothing.3 Because of this dreaming

c. state, we prove unable to rouse ourselves and to draw all
these distinctions and others akin to them, even in the case
of the waking and truly existing nature, and so to state the
truth : namely that, whereas for an image, since not even
the very principle on which it has come into being belongs to
the image itself,4 but it is the ever moving semblance of

1 Taking act with ov (cf. A.-H.). The words are separated for the sake of
euphony. Cf. 2 8a, 6, npos to Kara ravra eyov /3A iixuiv aei, where act belongs to

2 Taking 7 rpos 6 /3Ac7 rovrcs- together (with A.-H.), an easy hyperbaton.
Simplicius, Phys. 521, 31, paraphrases : airo rrjs els ra evvXa oveipaTucfjs epftXeijjeajs.
Plato uses eyprjyopcos, not fiXiiraiv, for a waking dream : Soph. 266c, ovap
avdparmvov eyprjyopoow. jSAcVcov normally means 4 alive not 4 awake ’.

8 Cf. Aristotle, Phys. iv, 1, 208a, 29. ‘ Everybody supposes that things

which exist are somewhere ; the non-existent is “ nowhere " — where is the
goat-stag or the sphinx ? ’ Simplic. ad loc describes this as a * parody ' of
our passage. Zeno ( Vors . 19A, 24) assumed in one of his arguments that
* Everything that exists is somewhere ' or 4 in some place \ Gorgias (quoted
below) repeats this.

4 This and other interpretations of the difficult clause cVcc f/irep ovS* auro rotho
c</>* $ yiyovev iavrfjs iariv are discussed in the Appendix (p. 370). An image
fomes into being on the same principle or conditions as a reflection : there
/lust be an original to cast it and a medium to contain it. Neither condition
** ‘‘elongs to ’ the image itself.

192

FORM, COPY, AND SPACE '

52c. something else, it is proper that it should come to be in
something else, clinging in some sort to existence on pain
of being nothing at all, on the other hand that which has
real being has the support of the exactly true account, which
declares that, so long as the two things are different, neither
can ever come to be in the other in such a way that the

d. two should become at once one and the same thing and two.

The three factors are here contrasted in three respects : (1) the
sort of existence which they have ; (2) the manner in which they
are known ; (3) the relations of the Form and of the copy to Space.

(1) Space, here named for the first time, is ' everlastingly existent
and not admitting destruction \ The phrase differs only verbally
from that applied to the Form, ‘ ungenerated and indestructible \
Here as elsewhere the Receptacle does not owe its existence to the
Demiurge, but is represented as a given factor limiting his operations
by necessary conditions. Space is thus essentially different from
Time, which was ranked among the works of intelligence and had
an archetype, eternal duration, of which it was an image. There
is no archetype of Space,1 which exists in its own right as surely
as does the Form. By recognising Space as an independent and
eternally existing factor necessary to the becoming of a world of
sensible images, Plato has added to the old scheme borrowed in
Republic v from Parmenides. The three things enumerated there
were (1) the perfectly real and knowable, (2) the objects of opinion,
(3) the absolutely unreal and unknowable. The third of these is
not to be identified with Space, for Space is not unreal, and we
can apprehend it. Plato's purpose is precisely to introduce Space,
as an eternally real object, to fill the blank left by the totally non-
existent in Parmenides' scheme, which consequently provided no
support for any world of appearances.

(2) Space is apprehended, not by the senses, but ‘ by a sort of
bastard reasoning ’, and is * hardly an object of belief ’. It is not,
like the Form, an object of genuine rational understanding (vorjcug) ;
nor is it, like the copy, apprehended by the senses and by judgment
involving perception. Space is not sensible ; for it cannot be seen
or touched. Is it, then, intelligible ? It is not a genuine intelligible
object, because it has no status in the world of Forms ; these, as
Plato goes on to say, are not in Space, nor are they extended,
although we may imagine ' the Triangle', for instance, as an
extended figure. Space is rather a factor in the visible world ; and
yet it is everlasting and imperishable, and can only be apprehended
by thinking : so it * partakes of the intelligible in a very puzzling

1 Cf. Fraccaroli, p. 87.

193

51e-52d

FORM, COPY, AND SPACE

way ' (51B). Plato may have in mind the process we call ‘ abstrac-
tion f — thinking away all the positive perceptible contents of
Becoming, until nothing is left but the ' room 1 or place in which
they occur. ‘ Hardly an object of belief ' {fioytQ marov) seems
intended to rule out * belief * or ‘ opinion 1 , in addition to perception
and rational knowledge. We normally ' believe ' in the existence
of a thing in the sense-world because we have perceived it,1 but
Space we cannot perceive.

(3) The Form is contrasted with Space in that the Form ‘ never
receives anything else into itself from elsewhere \ and with the
copy in that 1 it never itself enters into anything else anyWhere \
The same thing was said of Beauty itself in the Symposium (21 1 a) :
this is * never anywhere in anything else — in a living creature, for
instance, or in earth or heaven — but is always in and by itself \
The contrast between the Form and the copy is dwelt upon in the
rest of the paragraph in somewhat obscure terms. The copy or
image, not having the substantial existence of a perfectly real thing
(ovtojq Sv), but being * the ever-moving semblance of something
else \ requires some medium ‘ in which ’ it may appear and dis-
appear, like a mirror image. Thanks to this medium, Space, it
‘ clings somehow or other to existence, on pain of being nothing
at all \ It is, in fact, an eidolon , defined in the Sophist (240B) as
that which has some sort of existence ( dv Tzcog), but not real being
(ovx dvrax; ov). ‘ The very principle (or condition) on which it comes
to be ' lies outside itself, partly in the medium which receives it,
partly in the original which casts the image of itself on the medium.

The last part of the sentence contrasts with this fleeting semblance,
the Form which has real being. We should expect merely the
statement that the Form, since it is self-subsisting, requires no
medium and so is not in Space. Plato complicates matters by
adding the statement that neither is Space in the Form. ‘ That
which has real being (the Form) has the support of the exactly true
account ’ (no mere ‘ likely story *) ; and this declares that ‘ so long
as the two things are different, neither can ever come to be in the
other in such a way that the two should become at once one and
the same thing and two \ The language is obscure, but the whole
drift of the passage demands that the two things in question must
be the Form and Space \2 These must remain for ever distinct.
The Form, we have been told, cannot receive anything into itself

1 Cf. the use of irtaris for a state of mind intermediate between intellectual
understanding and eUaola at Rep. 51 ie.

* Not the Form and the copy, as A.-H. and Fraccaroli suppose. Above
(c, 3) iripov r tv6s meant the Form, and eV eWpo> nvl (c, 4) meant Space.
These expressions give to aAAo and to Be aAAo (c, 6) something to refer to.

194

FORM, COPY, AND SPACE

from elsewhere. This applies to Space, which can never enter
into the existence of Forms. Nor can the Form ever pass into
anything else anywhere ; it can never enter Space, and Space
cannot receive anything more than the copy.

What remains obscure is the consequence stated in the last
words : the result of the one coming to be in the other would be
that ‘ the two would become at once one and the same thing and
two \ Probably Plato is thinking of a somewhat archaic argument
which figures in Gorgias’ tract On Not-being (frag. 3) :

‘ If Being is unlimited, it is nowhere. For if it is somewhere,
that in which it is is different from it ; and thus, being embraced
by something which contains it, it will no longer be unlimited,
since what embraces something must be larger than the thing
it embraces, and nothing is larger than the unlimited. Hence
the unlimited is not somewhere.1 But again, neither is it con-
tained in itself ; for then the same thing will be container (to iv <5) and
content (to iv avrq)), and Being will become two things : place and
body ; for the container is place and the contained , body. But this
is absurd. Therefore neither is Being contained in itself. Accord-
ingly, if Being is everlasting, it is unlimited ; and if unlimited,
it is nowhere ; and if it is nowhere, it does not exist/

Gorgias is, so far as this argument goes, one of those who live
in the dream which takes the sense-world as the sole reality,2 and
imagine that ‘ what is not somewhere in earth or heaven is nothing \
The argument is reproduced by Plato himself at Parm. 138A, in
the criticism of the Parmenidean One, which excludes all plurality :

‘ Being such as we have described, it cannot be anywhere —
neither in anything else, nor yet in itself/ If in anything else,
it would be encompassed by that which contains it. If in itself,
the container as such must be one thing , the contained another ; the
same thing cannot, as a whole , be both at once. ‘ Hence the One
would be no longer one, but two.’ Therefore the One is not some-
where, not being either in itself or in anything else.3

In both passages the consequence that Being, or the One, ' will
be no longer one thing but two * — container and content, follows
from the supposition that it is contained ‘ in itself \ As applied
to the Form and Space, it will come to this. If, like a god assuming
visible shape, the Form were to enter Space, that would mean that

1 This argument is echoed in the Parmenides 150E.

2 A comparison which recurs frequently in the Republic, 476c, 520c, 534c.
8 Aristotle, Phys. iv, 3, discusses at length the question whether, and in

what sense, a thing can be ' in itself \

195

51e-52d

FORM, COPY, AND SPACE

it would become extended, and so Space would enter, as extension,
into its existence. But in an extended thing, considered as self-
contained, we can always distinguish the thing itself from the
room or place it occupies. So Gorgias argues that ' Being will
become two things, place and body \ In Plato's argument the
two things will be the Form (which must retain its unity) and its
extension, the space it has admitted ; and this last is the funda-
mental element of body. But Forms are essentially bodiless. So
the Form cannot enter Space, nor can Space enter the Form as
extension.

In this passage Plato comes nearer than anywhere else in the
Timaeus to the problem of the eidolon . He contributes towards
the solution an important factor which did not come into view in
the Sophist . Space, as eternally self-existent, provides the copy
with a ‘ room ’ or situation where it can ‘ somehow cling to exist-
ence ’ as ov Ttcog and escape being nothing at all (jzavr ehcbt; fxrj ov).
But the addition of this third factor does not, in itself, solve the
difficulty of explaining how Becoming can ever occur. The two
parents of Becoming — the Form and Space — are alike eternal and
unchanging. How can an image cast by an unchanging object on an
unchanging mirror be itself inconstant and fleeting ? Aristotle
saw this objection to the theory of Forms, offered in the Phaedo
as an explanation of becoming and perishing : * If the Forms are
causes, why is their generating activity intermittent instead of
perpetual and continuous — since there always are participants as
well as Forms ? * 1

4 There were others,’ Aristotle adds, * who thought that matter
was adequate by itself to account for becoming ; matter originates
the movement.’ This account Aristotle considers more scientific
than the theory of Forms : something which produces change of
quality and transformation would be more capable of bringing
things into being. But he rejects it on the ground that matter
(in his own view) has only the passive power of being moved :
water, for instance, has not the active power of producing a living
creature without the co-operation of the ‘ form The powers
(dwajueig) attributed by the theory he is criticising to the simple
bodies are treated as ‘ instrumental ’ or auxiliary causes of genera-
tion ; the hot has the power to separate things, the cold to bring
them together, and so on ; and the becoming and perishing of all
other things are to result from these actions. But in the absence
of the form, these powers cannot even be instrumental ; one might
as well attribute the making of a table to the ‘ necessary ’ action
of the saw or the plane.

1 Ar., de gen. et corr. 33 56, 18 (trans. Joachim).

196

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS

This criticism recalls Plato's condemnation of the popular view
that * cooling and heating, compacting or rarefying, are not mere
accessories, but the sole causes of all things ’ (46D). Plato himself,
who does recognise the superior position of the Form, is entitled
to treat the active powers of the primary bodies as accessory causes,
amenable in some degree to the controlling direction of intelligence,
though, left to themselves, they would produce random results by
the blind necessity of their nature. They are things that can set
other things in motion ; but they require to be set in motion
themselves. Neither the Form nor Space can act as the ultimate
moving cause. Hence, although the Form has been compared to
the father, Space to the mother, the Form cannot really supersede
the Demiurge, or whatever he stands for, as the generator of
Becoming. If, as we have concluded, the Demiurge is mythical,
the moving cause can only be the World- Soul. It becomes more
than ever difficult to resist the inference that the Demiurge is to
be identified with the Reason in the World-Soul.1

52D-53C. Description of Chaos

So far we have been almost wholly concerned with the Receptacle
of Becoming and the shifting qualities that appear in it and dis-
appear, considered, so far as is possible, in abstraction from the
element of rational design contributed by Reason. The Forms of
the four primary bodies were only introduced towards the end,
because a copy must have an original ; but it has been emphasised
that the Forms remain apart and cannot themselves enter the
region of Becoming. Plato now sums up the three factors required
for the production of a visible world, to which, as we have just
seen, we must add the ‘ Demiurge ' to produce it. He then passes
to a description of the Receptacle and its contents, imagined as
existing 4 before ’ the ordered world came into being. We are
now to hear what the Demiurge does when he 4 takes over * this
chaos.

52D. Let this, then, be given as the tale summed according to my
judgment 2 * : that there are Being, Space, Becoming — three
distinct things — even before the Heaven came into being.

1 The inference is drawn by W. Theiler (among others), who concludes that
the Demiurge must be conceived ‘ als Verdoppelung der Weltseele . . . als
Hinausprojektion gleichsam ihrer kiinstlerisch wirkenden Seite ’ (Teleolog.
Naturbetrachtung, 72). See above, pp. 34 ff.

2 i/rrj<l>o is XoyL&oQai is to calculate with counters ; but the singular \jrfypov
seems to allude to r^v c/ity rideficu pfj<f>ov, 51D. For rpla rpixfi* A.-H. com-
pares 89E, rpia rpixfi 'ftvxfjs eibrj, ‘ three distinct forms of soul ’. Cf. also Sixfi

(39A) for two ‘ distinct * motions in different planes.

* 197

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS

52d-53c

52D. Now the nurse of Becoming, being made watery and fiery
and receiving the characters of earth and air, and qualified
by all the other affections that go with these,1 had every

E. sort of diverse appearance to the sight ; but because it was
filled with powers that were neither alike nor evenly balanced,
there was no equipoise in any region of it ; but it was every-
where swayed unevenly and shaken by these things, and by
its motion shook them in turn. And they, being thus moved,
were perpetually being separated and carried in different
directions ; just as when things are shaken and winnowed
by means of winnowing-baskets and other instruments for
53. cleaning com, the dense and heavy things go one way,
while the rare and light are carried to another place and
settle there: In the same way at that time the four kinds
were shaken by the Recipient, which itself was in motion
like an instrument for shaking, and it separated the most
unlike kinds farthest apart from one another, and thrust the
most alike closest together ; whereby the different kinds
came to have different regions, even before the ordered
whole consisting of them came to be. Before that, all these

b. kinds were without proportion or measure. Fire, water,
earth, and air possessed indeed some vestiges of their own
nature, but were altogether in such a condition as we should
expect for anything when deity is absent from it. Such
being their nature at the time when the ordering of the
universe was taken in hand, the god then began by giving
them a distinct configuration by means of shapes and
numbers. That the god framed them with the greatest
possible perfection, which they had not before, must be
taken, above all, as a principle we constantly assert ; what I
must now attempt to explain to you is the distinct formation

c. of each and their origin. The account will be unfamiliar ;
but you are schooled in those branches of learning which
my explanations require, and so will follow me.

The analysis of the bodily just concluded enables Plato to give
a more detailed picture of that chaos * taken over ’ at the outset
by the Demiurge : * all that was visible, not at rest, but in dis-
cordant and unordered motion ' (30A). 4 Visible ' implies the

1 * Characters ’ (jiop</>ds) and * affections ’ (tt adrj) both mean * qualities \
The whole phrase is parallel to rrvp pkv €K dor ore avrov to irei rvpcofitvov fxtpos
<j>aiveodai, to xrypavBkv vScop, yrjv re teal at pa Kad* oaov dv fup.’qpara tovtcov
Btxnrcu (5IB), where (upL^pLara, like d<f>ofwia>fiara at 51 A, 2, shows that the
cuTtovra koX ovra twv qvtcdv del /xt/xr^/xara of 50c are simply qualities.

198

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS

presence of sensible qualities ; and there is also motion of a dis-
orderly kind. So here the Receptacle, now identified ultimately
with Space, is qualified by the main characters (jioqcpal) of fire, air,
water, and earth — hot, cold, moist, dry — and by other ' affections ’
(qualities, nadrj) attendant upon these. The qualities are also
described as ‘ powers ' (dwa/Lieig), with reference to their power of
acting on one another — the hot on the cold, the dry on the moist,
and so on — and on the senses of an observer, if we imagine someone
existing to observe them.1 The powers are not evenly balanced,
because there is as yet no principle of measure and proportion 2 ;
and the result of their unregulated interaction is a swaying and
shaking of the Receptacle and all its contents. This is compared
to the shaking of a winno wing-basket, which has the effect of
separating the light chaff from the heavier grain. In the shaking
of the Receptacle the blind mechanical principle that like tends to
get together with like is operating ; and the effect would be that
the different ‘ kinds ' would drift or be thrust into different regions.
That is the nearest approach to a cosmic order that could result
from the purposeless interplay of dissimilar and unbalanced
qualities.3 These qualities are called * vestiges ’ (J%vrj) of fire, air,
water, and earth ; there was as yet nothing that fully deserved to
be called by those names (69B), because the Demiurge has not yet
fashioned the geometrical shapes of the primary bodies.

In this description, as in the whole foregoing account of the
Receptacle, there is not a single word implying that the contents

1 Cf. 33A, ' hot things and cold and all things that have strong powers ’
(SvvdfjLc is laxvpas), and the commentary there (p. 53). The two words
liop<j>al and 8 wapitis occur at the opening of the second part of Parmenides’
poem, where the opposites of sensible quality are added to the geometrical
Sphere of Being : frag. 8, 53, ‘ Mortals have decided to name two fiop^ai ’
(Fire and Night) ; frag. 9, ‘ But now that all things have been named Light
and Night, and the names corresponding to their several powers (ra Kara
a^ercpas Bwapeis) have been assigned to these things and to those. . . .’
These are the names of what were later called ‘ qualities such as ‘ the hot

‘ the cold * ; ‘ the light ' the heavy ’ ; * the rare,’ ‘ the dense,’ etc., arranged
in pairs of opposites (as in the Pythagorean Table of Opposites) under the
primary pair, Fire (Light) and Night. See F. M. Cornford, Parmenides ’ Two
Ways , Cl. Qu. xxvii (1933), P- 108.

2 Contrast Empedocles' four elements, which are all equal in quantity and
evenly matched, so that they prevail in turn in the cycle of time (frag. 17).
The determination of the four primary bodies in a geometrical proportion
was a work of the Demiurge (31B), which has not yet taken place (cf. 69B).

3 We are reminded of the materialists’ doctrine in Laws x, 889B, that the
lifeless elements ‘ all move by the chances of their several powers {8wdp.€a>s) ,
and according as they clash and fit together with some sort of affinity — hot
with cold, dry with moist, soft with hard and in other mixtures that result,
by chance, of necessity, from the combination of opposites ’ generate a world
‘ by nature and chance ’.

199

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS 52d-53c

of the Receptacle exist in the form of particles.1 This notion,
imported by some modem commentators, rests partly on the mis-
translation of fiogqnj , idea, eldog already noticed, partly on the
confusion of the winnowing-basket in Plato's simile with the sieve
(ndaxivov), whose action in sorting grains of different kinds was
used by Democritus (frag. 164) to illustrate the principle that like
things tend to get together. Then, since Democritus invoked that
principle to account for atoms of like shape and size coming together
in the void, this picture of particles in empty space is read into
Plato's description. Accordingly it is understood that the contents
of the Receptacle are particles of irregular shape, and that the first
task of the Demiurge was 4 * * * 8 to reduce the particles to a number
of definite shapes \

There is really no warrant for attributing to Plato this atomistic
picture of irregular particles moving at random in a void. Atoms
were completely determined particles of solid substance, separated
by intervals of nothingness, which gave them room to move about.
Plato's Space is not a void which remains completely distinct from
particles moving in it ; it is a Recipient which affords a basis for
images reflected in it, as in a mirror — a comparison that could not
be applied to atoms and void. Space is to him the 4 room ' (xcdga)
or place where things are,2 * not intervals or stretches of vacancy
where things are not ; and if he admits any void at all, it is only
as the very smallest interstices ( diaxeva ) which the shapes of particles,
when particles have been formed, do not allow them to fill (58A, b) .

1 This notion vitiates Tr/s remarks on our passage (pp. 351 ff.). He first

describes the contents of the Receptacle as ‘ all sorts of sense-data subject

to no recognisable law and executing “ random ” movements ’. But then

he adds that ‘ the general effect would be like that of passing seeds of different

sizes through a twirling sieve in which the meshes are of different sizes. The
tendency would be for particles of the same character to be sorted into the
same heap. Thus “ before the universe was made ” (53c, 7) there was already
a tendency for like particles to be assembled together in distinct regions of

space/ On p. 352 he even speaks (by an oversight) of ‘ the rain of the

particles * — an Epicurean conception foreign to the earlier Atomists.

8 t 6nos obviously means the place where something is ; but *<opa also is
to 4v <L, the container of something, and has associations with >pciv meaning
to * hold \ * have room for ' : ‘ the crater holds foo/pcct) 600 amphorae '
(Hdt.). x<*>pa is used of the post, station, office, ‘ place * that a person holds :

‘ in the room of his father Herod \ bpa is ‘ room * that is filled, not vacant
space (k€v6v). Simpl., Phys. 540, 33, to S^xopevov re /cat ^a/pot/v avro x<opa
yiWrai rov iyyiyvop,4vov, 7) Sk ycopa toi tos vevopuorcu. 541, 26, tottqv kcli ^copay
/cat vnoSoxys /cal hpas ra>v €iSd>v. ‘ Place ’ would, indeed, be a less misleading
translation of x<opa than * Space ’, because * place ' does not suggest an infinite
extent of vacancy lying beyond the finite sphere of the universe. It should
be noted that ' unlimited ’ is not included among the attributes of Space at
52A, b, or anywhere else.

200

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS

Apart from the mistranslation of jbtoQ<ptf as 4 shape *, the notion
of irregular particles rests on the simile of the winnowing-basket.
But the nAoxavov, as its name implies,1 is ‘ woven ' of basketwork,
not a perforated sieve. It is the liknon or vannus described and
figured by Jane Harrison,2 a wide, shovel-shaped basket, high at
one end and flattened out at the other, held by two handles pro-
jecting from the upper rim at the sides. * The winnower takes
as much of grain and chaff mixed as he can conveniently hold and

supports the basket against the knee. He then jerks and shakes
the basket so as to propel the chaff towards the shallow open end
and gradually drives it all out, leaving the grain quite clean. . . .
The wind plays no part whatever in this process. . . . The chaff
rises up and sprays over the shallow end/ Plato mentions the
grains of com (atrog) and the chaff (ra juava xal xov (pa), which, as
he says, is ‘ carried away to another place and settles there \ There
is no question of several kinds of grain of different sizes and shapes,

1 7rXoKavov is used again at 78c of the fish-trap (Kvpros, nassa), woven
(nXeypta . . . owvfavdfievos, 78B) of wicker-work or reeds.

2 Mystica Vannus Iacchi, J. H. S. xxiii, 292 ff. ; Prolegomena to the study
of Gk. Relig. 530. Daremberg and Saglio, s.v. Vannus, The sketch here
given is based on a photograph of Mr. Wilson, Sir Francis Darwin’s gardener,
using a winno wing-basket of the pattern described. The Nurses {ndrjvai) of
Dionysus carry the infant god in a liknon. The Phrygian Earth M other ,
Hipta, ' places a liknon on her head which she has wreathed with a snake
and receives Dionysus ’ (vnoh^x^rai tov KpaStalov (?) Aiowoov • rip yap iavrfjs
deioroLTcp ylyveraL rijs voepas ovcrtas in Tohoyf} *at Se^erat tov iyKoapuov vovv Pr. i,
407 = Orph. Frag. 199, Kern). Cf. Nilsson, Minoan and Mycenaean Religion ,
pp. 493, 497. Did this image of the Mother or Nurse with the Child in the
liknon suggest to Plato’s mind the simile of the liknon-cradle in which the
infant universe is rocked by the Nurse, Mother, Recipient of Becoming, as
described again at 88c, d ?

201

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS 52d-53c

as in Democritus* analogy of the sieve ; nor is there any ‘ twirling *
motion (divog) in the case of the winnowing-basket. The contrast
is between the density and heaviness of the com and the lightness
and fine texture of the chaff. It is to these qualities that the
separation of like to like is due, not to differences of shape or size.
In the application, it is things of like quality that come together.
These things are the ‘ vestiges * of fire and the rest, before any
shape has been given to them. They come together on the principle,
unanalysed (here as elsewhere) and assumed as obvious, that like
things do come together.

With the Democritean sieve vanishes the last suggestion of
discrete particles separated by vacant space. Plato’s Recipient is
not partly empty, but completely filled with the sensible qualities
or ' powers *, tending to group themselves vaguely in indefinite
masses, so that you say that one part is ‘ fiery *, another 1 watery *.
So much distinctioh must be presupposed because (as Parmenides
had remarked, and as Plato repeats, 57E), if the whole contents
were perfectly uniform, there could be no motion or disturbance
of equilibrium. In accordance with tradition reaching back to
Anaximander, the qualities are grouped in pairs of opposites ; if
they are to exist at all, one part of the whole mass must be hotter,
another colder ; one drier, another moister, and so on. The condi-
tion imagined resembles what Anaximander probably conceived in
his * unlimited * mass, containing in indistinct confusion the
opposites that came to be ‘ separated out * of it. The ' separating
out * may have been partly due to the mutual repulsion of hostile
opposites, which emerges as a distinct moving cause in the Strife
of Empedocles. There is also the mutual attraction of like to like,
invoked by most of the physicists and by Plato himself. Anaxagoras
had another distinct moving cause, Mind ; but his description of
the state of things after motion has been initiated resembles Plato’s
chaos. The first visible distinction arose as fire [aether) drew towards
the outer part of the cosmic eddy, air towards the centre (frag. 2).
At a somewhat later stage, before individual things were formed,
* all things being together, not even any colour was discernible ;
that was prevented by the confusion of all things — of moist and
dry, hot and cold, bright and dark ’ (frag. 4). As the various
' things ’ draw more completely apart, they become more and more
distinct, and each part becomes more homogeneous, recognisable,
and nameable.

So Plato imagines his Receptacle filled and diversified with
qualities, whose unlikeness and lack of equilibrium agitate the
whole mass. The drift of like to like ‘ thrusts the most alike closest
together and separates the most unlike farthest apart ’. Thus

202

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS

there is a separating out of opposite qualities, illustrated by the
action of the winnowing-basket making * the dense and heavy
things go one way, the rare and light move to another place and
settle there \ The picture is left very vague. There is no mention
of any whirling motion ; for winno wing-baskets are not 1 twirled \
Circular motion is, to Plato, the rational motion, and he may have
designedly excluded it. If any whirl or eddy did occur, it would
be (as in the Atomists) only an accidental resultant of the six
irrational motions — the rectilinear motions proper to the primary
bodies and associated with the Errant Cause and blind Necessity.
Granted that the qualities are active 4 powers ', and that like
necessarily tends to like, ‘ the bodily ', undirected by any intelli-
gence, might be imagined as advancing so far, but no farther,
towards a cosmic order.1

Such is the chaos taken over by the designing intelligence. How
is it to be interpreted ? It is now generally agreed that this dis-
orderly condition can never have existed by itself at a time before
order was introduced. Bodily motion cannot exist without a soul
to cause it. The World-Soul was a creation of the Demiurge, who
put reason in soul, and soul in body. When soul was fitted to
body, the world, as a living creature containing soul and reason,
began its ‘ unceasing and intelligent life for all time \ Plato
clearly means that there never was a time when the body existed
without the soul, or the soul without the body. We must also, I
think, rule out the notion, favoured by some ancient Platonists,
that the soul of the world was at first irrational, having only the
irrational motions, and then the Demiurge endowed it with reason
and reduced it to order.2

It follows that chaos is, in some sense, an abstraction — a picture
of some part of the cosmos, as it exists at all times, with the works
of Reason left out, ' such a condition as we should expect for
anything when deity is absent from it \ Now if you abstract
Reason and its works from the universe what is left will be irrational
Soul, a cause of wandering motions, and an unordered element of
the bodily, itself moving without plan or measure. This bodily
element is represented as consisting of qualities with active powers,
moving within the Recipient which contains them, not as yet
limited by the element of definite quantity, number, measure,
shape. Now that we have ruled out the conception of discrete
solid particles moving about and colliding in empty space, we need
some other account of the way in which qualities can be supposed

1 Cf. Robin, Phys. de Platon 42.

2 Tr. (pp. 1 15 ff.) states and criticises this view as held by Plutarch and
Atticus.

203

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS 52d-53c

to be in motion. Here the Timaeus must be supplemented by
evidence from the other late dialogues.

The Theaetetus states Plato’s theory of the nature of sensible
qualities.1 The physical objects that yield our sensations and
perceptions have no permanent qualities residing in them. They
are described as actually being * slow changes \ The only other
thing we know about them is that they have the power (dvvajuig)
of acting on our organs and on one another. What we call a hot
thing is a change that can make us ‘ feel hot ' and can make another
thing we call ‘ cold ’ hotter. This change, as opposed to locomotion,
is a modification or qualitative change (&Mo(coaig) which is going
on all the time, whether or not it gives rise to sensations and percep-
tions in any sentient organ. On the side of the percipient, the eye
which sees or the flesh which feels is itself a physical object of the
same kind, a qualitative change. Nothing that can properly be
called an agent or a patient exists until an organ capable of sensa-
tion and an external object come within range of one another.
When they do come within range, the * powers of acting and being
acted upon ’ come into play. In the case of sight, * quick motions '
pass between organ and object. The meeting and coalescence of
the visual ray from the eye with the stream of light from the object
(as described above, 45c) generate vision and colour. At that
moment, but not before, the object can be said to become ' white '
or * black \ The whiteness exists only ‘ for ' the percipient and so
long as the perception lasts. Similarly the quality I call ‘ hot ’ has
no independent existence in the object ; the object becomes hot
only when some sentient creature feels it hot. Before that, there
exists only a change, which has the power of causing other changes
in neighbouring objects. Plato speaks of qualities as changes, not
as things which change, because that would suggest something
permanent which undergoes change. The Timaeus has explained
that the only permanent thing, which can be called * this is the
Recipient.

In accordance with this theory of qualities, the Friends of Forms
in the Sophist (246Aff.), among whom Plato must be included,
confine real being to ‘ certain intelligible and bodiless Forms ’ and
reduce the bodies which materialists regard as real to * a moving
process of becoming with which we have intercourse by means
of sensation and perception. They define this intercourse as 4 the
experiencing an effect or the production of one arising, as the result
of some power, from things that encounter one another ’ (248B).
Becoming has this ‘ power of acting and being acted upon \

1 Theaet. 155D ff. I have argued in Plato* s Theory of Knowledge, pp. 48 ff.,
that, as Jackson held, this theory must be Plato's own.

, 204

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS

All this is in agreement with the account of the perceptible
likenesses of the Forms of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth, which are
* perpetually in motion, coming to be in a certain place and again
vanishing out of it ' (52A). By virtue of tKeir entrance, the Nurse
of Becoming has * every sort of diverse appearance to the sight
in the sense that, if there were a spectator with eyes to see it, it
would cause in him sensations of various colours. But in the
absence of any spectator, there are, strictly speaking, no colours —
only changes capable of causing such sensations. Space is accord-
ingly described as filled with ' powers ' whose motions are in
unordered and unbalanced agitation. Commenting on the state-
ment (30 a) that the Demiurge * took over all that was visible \
Proclus (i, 387) remarks that the visible cannot be bodiless and
without quality ; but must be something that * already partakes
of the Forms and possesses certain vestiges or appearances of them,
in a condition of unordered and discordant motion ; for the image-
like and unarticulated presence of the Forms produces in it various
motions \ Elsewhere (iii, 275) he says : ‘ Nature, having im-
planted in the masses bodily powers immersed in matter, moves
the masses by means of those powers — earth by its heaviness, fire
by its lightness/

Since no bodily changes can occur without the self-motion of
soul, the other factor present in this chaos must be irrational
motions of the World-Soul, considered in abstraction from the
ordered revolutions of Reason. The disorderly moving mass must
be conceived as animated by soul not yet reduced to order, but in
a condition analogous in some ways to that of the infant soul
described above (43Aff.). We must reject the view that Plato has
reduced the bodily to mere empty space figured in the geometrical
patterns which the Demiurge is now going to introduce. If that
were so, the offspring of the two parents, the Forms and Space,
would not be a moving process of becoming ; there would be no
motion. The particles of the primary bodies, presently to be
fashioned, cannot be, as it were, empty boxes — nothing but
geometrical planes enclosing vacancy. They would then be
inanimate and like Democritus' atoms, except that they would not
be solidly packed with impenetrable substance. Indeed, the whole
of Space would be empty — a void partitioned by geometrical planes.
Plato's description throughout implies that the particles are filled
with those changes or powers which are sensible qualities ; and
that they are penetrated and animated by soul ; only so can the
whole body of the cosmos be alive and moving and the primary
bodies have characteristic motions of their own. The atoms of
Democritus were not alive, and their movement was left unexplained,
p.c. 205 p

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS 52d-53c

According to Plato, in a world of Democritean atoms and void
there could be no motion at all. The same would be true of his
own particles, if they were not penetrated by soul. The activity
of soul in every part of the physical universe is the only possible
source of the active powers of bodies— of their motion in space
and of their power of altering one another qualitatively and affecting
our sense-organs.1

It may be added that all these motions are irrational. The
movements in space characteristic of the primary bodies are recti-
linear— those ' wandering motions ' in all the six directions which
have been repeatedly contrasted with the circular revolution of
Reason. The qualitative alterations perpetually going on are
inaccessible to any kind of scientific knowledge. They can cause
sensations which, on the physical side, are themselves qualitative
alterations of bodily organs and, on the mental side, yield percep-
tions confined to the individual percipient, which can never rank as
knowledge because subject and object are in a perpetual flux of
change.

The abstract picture of the physical world without the guidance
of Reason is illustrated by the myth in the Statesman (268Dff.).
There are times when God himself helps to guide the revolution of
the universe. Then, after an appointed period, he lets it go and
the world is carried round in the reverse direction spontaneously
{avriiiaxov) by the power of motion which it possesses as a conscious
living creature. This reverse movement is implanted in it of
necessity (e£ avayxrjg), because only the most divine things are
always constant in the same state. The world, having a body, is
subject to change ; but it keeps so far as possible to its own motion
of rotation in one place. The least possible deviation is reversal of
direction. The world cannot always turn itself ; that is possible
only to the divine ruler of all things that are moved, and he cannot
cause motion now in one direction, now in the opposite. Nor can
there be two gods with opposite intentions to turn it. The only
alternative is that at one time it is guided by divine causation, and
acquires fresh life and renewed immortality from its maker ; at
another, when it is let go, it turns itself in the reverse direction for
many myriads of revolutions.

We are now living in one of the periods when the god’s hand has

1 In the Laws Soul is not merely called the source of motion (as at Phaedrus
2450), but more specifically * the cause of the becoming and perishing of all
things ' (891 e) ; it ‘ controls all change and rearrangement ’ (892 a) ; it is
the ' first becoming and change ' (896A) ; it originates all hiaKpiais, avgr),
ytvecns and their opposites (894B). See Theiler, Teleolog. N aturbetrachtung
(1925), p. 70, who remarks on these passages that the World-Soul, as cause
of becoming, leaves no room for any Demiurge beside itself.

206

DESCRIPTION OF CHAOS

been withdrawn from the helm. The reversals are marked by the
greatest of all cosmic catastrophes ; all but a remnant of life on
earth is destroyed. The very current of life is brought to a standstill
and set flowing in the contrary direction. When the steersman of
the universe let go of the tiller and retired to his own conning-tower,
the world began to turn the other way by fate and its own inborn
impulse (EijaaQjadvrj re xal av/acpvrog imdvfiia). The reversal caused
earthquakes, which went near to destroying all life. As the disturb-
ance began to settle down and calm followed the storm, the world
began to be set in order and to move on its accustomed course,
governing and caring for itself and all that it contained, and recalling,
as well as might be, the teaching of its maker and father. But
the memory grows dim and things begin to go worse, thanks to the
admixture of the bodily element (to aco jaar oEidig) inherent in the
world's nature, which was full of confusion before it came into its
present order. All that is good in the world comes from its maker ;
all the cruelty and injustice that it contains in itself and produces
in living creatures come from its former chaotic condition. Hence
in the former period when it was nurturing its living creatures under
the god's guidance, it engendered great goods and few evils ; but
now that it is separated from him, as time goes on and forgetfulness
grows, the old disorder threatens to prevail. Good things diminish,
evils increase, and it comes in danger of utter destruction. Then
at last the god, seeing its distress, and taking care that it shall not
be shipwrecked in the storm of disorder and sink into 4 the limitless
ocean of Unlikeness ’, will take the helm again. He will turn back
the diseased and dissolving fabric to its former motion, order it and
set it right, and save it from age and death.

As Proclus observes, the machinery of the reversal of the world’s
motion is a mythical device to represent as existing at separate
times things which in fact are always coexistent in the cosmos.1
The same is true of the description in the T imaeus of the condition
of the world 4 when divinity is absent from it ’ as if it were a state
of things that had existed 4 before the Heaven was made ’. If we
discount these mythical devices, both myths present a picture of
the universe as it would be if the works of Reason were abstracted,
and the one may be used to illustrate the other. In the Statesman
we find that when the god is absent, the world is still a living and

1 Pr. iii, 273al. Simplicius, Phys. 1122, 3, too criticises Alexander for
taking Plato’s description of chaos (30A) as meaning that the cosmos had a
beginning in time, preceded by a condition of disorder. He points out that
the temporal separation of the two conditions is merely mythical in the
Timaeus, as in the Statesman , where Plato imagines the Maker removed
from the cosmos and contemplates its collapse into * the ocean of Unlikeness \

207

FIGURES OF THE PRIMARY BODIES 53c-55c

to a living soul, I do not see how to escape the conclusion that
the World-Soul is not completely rational. Besides the circular
revolutions of the Reason it contains, there are the six irrational
motions characteristic of the primary bodies. These bring about
some desirable results, such as intelligence could purpose ; but the
picture of their working below the level at which the Demiurge
first takes a hand and introduces an element of rational design
can hardly be accounted for unless we take it as representing an
imperfectly subdued factor of blind necessity always at work in
Nature.

53055c. Construction of the figures of the four primary bodies

From the abyss of bodily ‘ powers ' in complete abstraction from
the works of Reason, we now ascend to the lowest level at which
the element of order and design contributed by the Demiurge can
be discerned in the turbulent welter of fire, air, water, and earth.
The god endows the primary bodies with regular geometrical
shapes. It is a reasonable conjecture that Plato's account of their
structure is a deliberate correction of Democritus' atomism. Atoms
were discrete particles of minimal size and definite shape ; but
Democritus had given them any and every variety of shape.
Plato will not leave this matter to chance.1 He has adopted the
Empedoclean doctrine that there are just four primary bodies ;
and now he assigns to each the shape of one of the regular geometrical
solids, so that there are just four shapes, chosen because they are
the ‘ best Thus the operation of Reason is carried, so far as
may be, into the dark domain of the irrational powers.

What follows here is entirely concerned with the construction
of the regular solids which are taken as the figures of the four
primary bodies. These figures alone are the work of the Demiurge ;
the qualities previously considered are left out of account. The
figures are not the actual shapes of existing particles, which can
only be imperfect copies, but the perfect types, belonging to the
intelligible world of mathematics. The theoretical construction of
the regular solids had been completed by Theaetetus at the Academy.
So far as we know, the assignment of these figures to the primary
bodies is due to Plato and had not been anticipated by any earlier
thinker.

The basic premiss of the following argument is not stated at the

1 Cf. Ar., de gen. et corr. 3256, 24 : Both Plato and Leucippus postulate
elementary constituents that are indivisible and distinctively characterised
by figures ; but there is this great difference : the indivisibles of Leucippus
are (1) solids, while those of Plato are planes, and (2) characterised by an
infinite variety of figures, while Plato’s figures are limited in number.

210

FIGURES OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

outset, but only after some preliminary remarks about solid figures
in general. It is that four of the regular solids, namely the pyramid
(tetrahedron), the octahedron, the icosahedron, and the cube, are
the ‘ best 1 figures that could be found for the purpose, for certain
reasons that could be given in a fuller account than there is room
for here. Of these, the first three have equilateral triangular faces,
the cube has square faces. Since Plato intends to build his solids
out of plane faces, we might expect him to take the equilateral
triangle and the square as his elementary plane figures and proceed
at once to construct the solids out of the proper numbers of such
elements. It is by no means obvious why he does not take this
simple course ; for the whole theory of the breaking down of solids
into plane faces and the reformation of these into other solids,
which i§ to explain the transformation of one primary body into
another, could be worked out on this basis. For the present we
shall note this as a point to be explained later, and follow the
procedure which he actually adopts.

Having chosen as the best figures those regular solids which
have the equilateral triangle or the square for their faces, Plato
constructs these faces out of two triangles into which they can in
fact be divided symmetrically. These are : (i) the half-equilateral,
obtained by dropping a perpendicular from any angle of the equi-
lateral to the opposite side. The sides of the half-equilateral have
lengths corresponding to the numbers i, 2, \/3- ^ *s accordingly
described below (54B) as ' having the greater side (of the two contain-
ing the right angle) triple in square of the lesser \ (2) The other

elementary triangle is the half-square, whose sides correspond to
the numbers 1,1, V2. This right-angled isosceles triangle and the
half-equilateral (which is one type out of the infinite variety of
right-angled scalene triangles) are thus taken as the two irreducible
* elements 1 for the construction of all the four solids. These
results are led up to by some general remarks about the construction
of solids out of planes and of planes out of triangles, which somewhat

211

FIGURES OF THE PRIMARY BODIES 53c-55c

53E. of one another by resolution ? If we can hit upon the answer
to this, we have the truth concerning the generation of earth
and fire and of the bodies which stand as proportionals
between them. For we shall concede to no one that there
are visible bodies more perfect than these, each corresponding
to a single type.1 We must do our best, then, to construct
the four types of body that are most perfect and declare
that we have grasped the constitution of these things
sufficiently for our purpose.2

54. Now, of the two triangles, the isosceles is of one type only ;
the scalene, of an endless number. Of this unlimited multi-
tude we must choose the best, if we are to make a beginning
on our own principles. Accordingly, if anyone can tell us
of a better kind that he has chosen for the construction of
these bodies, his will be the victory, not of an enemy, but
of a friend. For ourselves, however, we postulate as the
best of these many triangles one kind, passing over all the
rest ; that, namely, a pair of which compose the equilateral
triangle. The reason is too long a story ; but if anyone

B. should put the matter to the test and discover that it is not
so,3 the prize is his with all good will. So much, then, for
the choice of the two triangles, of which the bodies of fire 4 5
and of the rest have been wrought : the one isosceles (the
half-square), the other having the greater side triple in
square 6 of the lesser (the half-equilateral).

Plato once more indicates that his choice of the right-angled
isosceles (the half-square) and the particular right-angled scalene
which is the half-equilateral, is not so arbitrary as it appears. He
has in reserve an explanation too long to be given here. I shall
attempt to supply this explanation later (pp. 231 ff.), when we have
accumulated all the points that remain obscure without it. One
such point we have already noted : why does Plato subdivide the

1 * Type ’ (y&os) here seems to mean ‘ type of solid figure ', as in the next
sentence.

2 LKavws : ‘ sufficiently * in order to explain the physical transformation of
the primary bodies (‘ these things '), whereas the full geometrical construction
would be a much longer business.

8 Reading p rj . With 81} , the sense is : ‘ he who tests this and proves it
to have this property ’. But this is the wrong sense : Plato could prove it
himself, if the reason were not too long a story.

4 to to v 7rvpos, sc. au>pa, supplied from the following aatpara. Not ‘ substance *
(A.-H.), but the geometrical solid figure.

5 Kara Bvvafuv. Cf. Eucl. x, Def. 2, * Straight lines are commensurable in
square (Bwapei avpperpoi) when the squares on them are measured by the
same area ’ (though they may be incommensurable in length) .

214

FIGURES OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

equilateral and the square which form the faces of his solids ?
Another point arises here : the choice of the smaller elements into
which he subdivides them is not determined by the figures they
compose. There are other ways of dividing an equilateral or
a square symmetrically into smaller triangles. Why are the
half-square and the half-equilateral better than any possible
alternatives ? A third question, about which nothing is said
here, is the size of the elementary triangles. It will appear later
(57c) that each of the solids built up out of them must be of
several sizes. Does this involve that the elementary triangles must
be of more than one size ? I shall argue (p. 233) that, as the
present passage might seem tacitly to imply, one size of each
elementary triangle is sufficient, thanks precisely to one of the
merits of these particular triangles which Plato refuses to dwell
upon here.

The choice of the two elementary triangles has now been made.
Before going on to construct out of them the equilateral and square
faces of his solids, Plato recalls once more the physical process of
transformation which the structure of the solids is to account for.
Where this transformation was first mentioned (49B, c), it was said
that we see, ‘ as we imagine ', all four primary bodies being trans-
formed into one another in a cycle. We are now told that this
cannot, in fact, occur, because the transformation is to be effected
by breaking down the solids into their elementary triangles and
regrouping these into other solids. That this is what happens is
simply assumed as part of the theory. But one of the chosen solids,
the cube, is built of a different triangle from the other three. It
follows that earth, to which the cube will be assigned, cannot be
transformed into fire or air or water. The transformation must
be confined to these three.

54B. We must now be more precise upon a point that was not
clearly enough stated earlier.1 It appeared as though all
the four kinds could pass through one another into one
another ; but this appearance is delusive ; for the triangles
c. we selected give rise to four types, and whereas three are
constructed out of the triangle with unequal sides, the fourth
alone is constructed out of the isosceles. Hence it is not
possible for all of them to pass into one another by resolution,
many of the small forming a few of the greater and vice versa.
But three of them can do this ; for these are all composed
of one triangle, and when the larger bodies are broken up,

1 At 53E it was said that some (but not all) primary bodies could pass into
one another by resolution. The next sentence refers to 49B, c.

215

FIGURES OF THE PRIMARY BODIES 53c-55c

54c. several small ones will be formed of the same triangles,
taking on their proper figures ; and again when several of
the smaller bodies are dispersed into their triangles, the total
D. number made up by them will produce a single new figure
of larger size, belonging to a single body. So much for their
passing into one another.

The exclusion of earth from the cycle of transformation is simply
a consequence of the decision to assign the cube to earth. Other
physicists (including Aristotle) felt no objection to earth being
transformed ; and the exclusion is certainly not dictated by any
facts of observation, to which, indeed, Plato makes no appeal.1
Plato now proceeds to build the four regular solids. He begins
with the construction of the equilateral triangular face which is
common to the pyramid, the octahedron, and the icosahedron.
The ' element ' is the half-equilateral, ‘ whose hypotenuse is double
of the shorter side in length \ The equilateral is formed by putting
together six (not, as we should expect, two) of these elements in
the following figure :

54D. The next thing to explain is, what sort of figure each body
has, and the numbers 2 * that combine to compose it.

First will come the construction of the simplest and smallest
figure (the pyramid). Its element is the triangle whose
hypotenuse is double of the shorter side in length. If a pair

1 Aristotle, de caelo 306 a, 2, bluntly says that the exclusion of earth is

unreasonable, contrary to observed facts, and dictated by a priori principles.

I cannot see the force of Tr.'s defence : 4 * * * 8 The obvious reply is that as to the

evidence of our senses, Aristotle’s statement rests on a misinterpretation,

and as to * plausibility ', if experience really does provide examples of the

transformation of the other 4 roots ’ but none of the transformation of earth,

it is a * plausible ’ view that a particle of earth has a geometrical structure
radically different from those of the other three bodies ’ (p. 404).

8 4 Numbers ’ may mean 4 numbers of units ’, i.e. elementary triangles ;
but there are also the numbers of faces, angles, etc., in the solid.

216

FIGURES OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

54D. of such triangles are put together by the diagonal,1 and this

E. is done three times, the diagonals and the shorter sides
resting on the same point as a centre, in this way a single
equilateral triangle is formed of triangles six in number.

Here is another seemingly arbitrary feature, which has never
been satisfactorily explained.2 Plato has himself remarked that
the equilateral can be formed of two elementary triangles (54A).
Why does he actually take six ? A reason will be suggested later
(p. 234). Having constructed the equilateral face, Plato next
builds the pyramid (with four such faces), the octahedron, and the
icosahedron.

54E. If four equilateral triangles are put together, their plane
angles meeting in groups of three make a single solid angle,
55. namely the one (180°) that comes next after the most obtuse
of plane angles. When four such angles are produced, the
simplest solid figure is formed, whose property is to divide
the whole circumference into equal and similar parts.3 * * * * 8

A second body (the octahedron) is composed of the same
(elementary) triangles when they are combined in a set of
eight equilateral triangles, and yield a solid angle formed by
four plane angles. With the production of six such solid
angles the second body is complete.

The third body (the icosahedron) is composed of one

b. hundred and twenty of the elementary triangles fitted
together, and of twelve solid angles, each contained by five

1 Probably, the diagonal of the resulting figure, Ihe trapezium CDOE, viz.
the hypotenuse CO. Cf. Kara Sidfierpov at 36c. Since there is no question
of proper geometrical methods of construction, but only of fitting pieces
together as in a puzzle, there is no objection to building an equilateral out
of trapezia. Not using diagrams, Plato simply describes the figure as briefly
as he can.

2 A.-H.’s suggestion will not bear examination. Cook-Wilson’s (Tr., p. 374),
that the division is symmetrical with respect to A, B, C, is true, but why
is this important ? Taylor's reference to the ‘ centre of gravity ' is hardly
relevant, even * if the triangle be supposed to have weight (being thought

of as a very thin uniform lamina) which is itself a questionable supposition.

Heath (Euclid ii, 98) adduces the theorem, attributed to the Pythagoreans,

that six equilateral triangles, or three hexagons, or four squares, placed

contiguously with one angular point of each at a common point, will just

fill up the four right angles round that point.

8 Martin rightly understands ircpifapds as the circumference of the sphere
in which the pyramid is supposed to be inscribed (so Tr., p. 376). In Euclid
xiii, 13, * To construct a pyramid, to comprehend it in a given sphere *, etc.,
is stated as a single problem. The last words mean that the pyramid is
regular. It is the f simplest ’ figure, because 4 is the smallest number of
faces that can contain a solid.

217

FIGURES OF THE PRIMARY BODIES 53c-55c

55B. equilateral triangular planes 1 ; and it has twenty faces
which are equilateral triangles.

The second elementary triangle, the half-square, is now used to
construct the square face of the cube. Here again Plato uses
more elements than are necessary — four instead of two. This is
smother point which we will hold in reserve.

55B. Here one of the two elements, having generated these bodies,
had done its part. But the isosceles triangle went on to
generate the fourth body, being put together in sets of four,
with their right angles meeting at the centre, thus forming
a single equilateral quadrangle.

c. Six such quadrangles, joined together, produced eight solid
angles, each composed by a set of three plane right angles.
The shape of the resulting body was cubical, having six
quadrangular equilateral planes as its faces.

Plato has only four primary bodies, which are now provided for.
But there remains the fifth regular solid, the dodecahedron, for
which some use must be found.

55c. There still remained one construction, the fifth ; and the
god used it for the whole, making a pattern of animal figures
thereon.

The dodecahedron is not constructed. Plato knew that its
pentagonal faces cannot be formed out of either of his two elementary
triangles : it was in fact constructed by means of an isosceles
triangle having each of its base angles double of the vertical angle.2

1 Tr. (p. 376) understands ywvuov with imiriSwv (as in the previous sentence) ,
Tptywvaiv being dependent genitive : * five plane angles which belong to
equilateral triangles \ It is true that a solid angle is defined (Euclid xi,
Def. 11) as ‘ contained ' (ireptcxopJvri) by more than two plane angles; but
Plato speaks above of the solid angle as consisting of (4k) plane angles, and
the construction of the genitives is difficult. Also at 55 c, 4( 4nt7r4hovs
vovs looirXcvpovs means * six equilateral quadrangular planes \

* See Heath, Euclid ii, p. 98.

218

MIGHT THERE BE FIVE WORLDS?

Not requiring a dodecahedron with plane faces for any primary
body, the Demiurge 4 uses it for the whole \ i.e. for the sphere, to
which this figure approaches most nearly in volume, as Timaeus
Locrus remarks. The meaning is explained in Wyttenbach's note
on Phaedo iiob, where Socrates says that the spherical Earth, seen
from above, would resemble ‘ one of those balls made of twelve
pieces of leather 1 marked out in a pattern of various colours.
' To make a ball, we take twelve pieces of leather, each of which
is a regular pentagon. If the material were not flexible, we should
have a regular dodecahedron ; as it is flexible, we get a ball/ 1
So here Plato imagines a flexible dodecahedron expanding into
spherical shape. The word diaCcoyQafpcbv is ambiguous. It might
mean ‘ giving it a pattern of various colours ' ; but this seems
hardly appropriate to the sky. On the other hand, the whole sky
is covered with 4 animals ' — not only the twelve signs of the Zodiac,
but all the other constellations.2

55C-D. Might there be five worlds ?

At this point Plato interrupts his argument to reopen the question,
whether there is more than one ‘ cosmos \

55c. Now if anyone, taking all these things into account, should
raise the pertinent 3 4 question, whether the number of worlds

D. should be called indefinite or limited, he would judge that
to call them indefinite is the opinion of one who is indeed
indefinite about matters on which he ought to be definitely
informed.4 But whether it is proper to speak of them as
being really one or five, he might, if he stopped short there,
more reasonably feel a doubt. Our own verdict, indeed,
declares the world to be by nature a single god, according
to the probable account ; but another, looking to other

1 Burnet, ad loc., referring to Wyttenbach, who cites Plut., Qu. Plat. 1003c :

the dodecahedron, because of the number of its elements and the bluntness of
its angles, eort teal rf} irepiTdoa. Ka.Q6.TTCp at ScoSeKacrKvroi a<f>alpat KVKXorcpcs

yivcrai Kai TrepiXrjTmKov. Pr. iii, 141, also connects our passage with the
Phaedo.

2 Burnet's suggestion that ‘ the real allusion is to the mapping out of the
whole apparently spherical heavens into twelve pentagonal regions for the
purpose of charting the constellations ’ is quoted with approval by Tr. (p. 377),
but not supported by any evidence that the heavens were so mapped by
astronomers. Burnet took the suggestion from Newbold, Arch. G. Phil.,
N.F. xii (1906), 203, to which he refers.

8 ifi/icXdis- The question is not TrXrjfifjLcXds, * out of tune * with the subject
in hand.

4 The pun on the two senses of <i7T€ipos occurs again at Philebus 17E and
possibly at Theaet. 183B.

219

MIGHT THERE BE FIVE WORLDS ? 55c-d

55D. considerations, will judge differently. He, however, may
be dismissed.

This passage is extremely puzzling. There is nothing in the
previous context to suggest a plurality of worlds, except a certain
resemblance between Plato's solids and the atoms of Leucippus
and Democritus. The Atomists believed in innumerable coexistent
worlds, not because bodies are composed of atoms, but because
atoms are unlimited in number and void is infinite in extent. Plato
would deny both these premisses, and he has nothing but dis-
approval for the Atomist's philosophy.

In the earlier passage he refers to (31 a, b), it was argued ‘ accord-
ing to the probable account ' that the world would be the better
for possessing the uniqueness of its model. Why is it now suggested
that there might be something to be said for five worlds ? Five
is not the number of the primary bodies, but only of the regular
solids that have been mentioned. Why should there be as many
worlds as there are regular solids ? There is no evidence that
anyone had ever believed in five worlds 1 * * ; and since the association
of the regular solids with the primary bodies is, so far as we know,
a novel theory of Plato's own, there was no reason why anyone
should. Even if any philosopher had believed in five elements,
that would be no ground for thinking that there might be five worlds,
each consisting of one element.

Plutarch twice refers to our passage. In the tract On the E at
Delphi (xi) he understands Plato to assign ‘ the five perfect figures
in Nature ' to five primary bodies, earth, water, air, fire, and
‘ heaven ' or, as some call it, ‘ light ' or 4 aether ' or ‘ the fifth
substance, the only body to which circular motion is natural and
not constrained or otherwise accidental '. On this view, the five
* cosmoi ' mean the five regions proper to these bodies, within the
unique universe. The suggestion is repeated by Heracleon in the
treatise On the Cessation of Oracles (422F), in reply to Demetrius'
protest that Plato had not supported his suggestion of five worlds
by any appeal to reason or probability. Heracleon cites the critics
who referred the doctrine to Homer on the ground that he had
partitioned the universe into five regions {cosmoi) : heaven, water,
air, earth, Olympus. Earth and Olympus were left ‘ common ' ;
the three intermediate regions were divided among the three gods
(II. xv, 189). Similarly Plato, assigning the perfect figures to the
‘ differences ' (diayogal) of the Whole, ‘ spoke of five cosmoi , of

1 1 have argued (C.Q. xviii, 1934, P* 14) that there are no grounds for

regarding Petron, with his eccentric doctrine of 183 worlds arranged in a

triangle, as earlier than Plato.

220

MIGHT THERE BE FIVE WORLDS ?

earth, water, air, fire, and last the one which embraces these, the
cosmos of the dodecahedron, widely spread and with many turnings,
to which he assigned the figure suitable to the revolutions and
movements of the soul ' (i.e. the sphere). Further on, the somewhat
confused explanations quoted from Theodoras of Soli and Ammonius'
criticism of them may suggest a closer parallel between Homer's
Earth and Olympus, which are left out of the Division, and Plato's
cube (earth) and dodecahedron (Heaven), which, being based on
elementary triangles of a different type from one another and
from the rest, take no part in the transformation of the primary
bodies. Homer's ‘ heaven ' (fire), air, and water, will correspond to
the three intermediate bodies which are transformed into one
another, being all based on the same triangle.1

This, so far as I know, is all the light contributed by the ancients,
who seem to have found the passage as obscure as it is to us. Their
suggestions are irrelevant, unless they were right in connecting the
dodecahedron with the fifth form of body, aether, which first
appears in the Epinomis (981c). Zeller held that this ‘ deviation
from his earlier doctrine ' must be ascribed to Plato himself, because
Xenocrates in his Life of Plato spoke of his carrying the Division
of animals to the point where he reached * the elements of all
animals, which he called five figures or bodies, namely aether, fire,
water, earth, air '.2 It is conjectured that Xenocrates' statement
must be based on Plato’s oral teaching towards the end of his life.

Either our passage must be given up as inexplicable, or we must
see in it a veiled allusion to the possibility of a fifth form of body,
which, in any case, would be thought of as of a higher order than
the four we are here concerned with, and would have no part in
the physical processes of transformation which it is Plato's object
to explain. It still remains a puzzle, why Plato should speak of
the notion that there are five cosmoi — regions in one world as an
alternative to a single cosmos = world or an indefinite number of
worlds.3

1 The scheme attributed to Pherekydes by Damascius, de princ. I24b (after
Eudemus, frag. 117), is curiously parallel. The three first principles are Zas
(heaven), Chthonie (earth) and Time ; then Time makes out of his own seed
fire, air, water. These are connected with Pherekydes' word ■mvrefxvxos ,
which, the writer says, may mean irtvreKoofios.

2 Zeller ii4, 951. The passage from Xenocrates is quoted by Simplicius,
Phys. 1165, 33 (and twice elsewhere), who adds ware 6 aldrjp 7T€p.7rrov aXXo n
ocjfia o.tt\ovv tort kcu avrtp ( r<I> IJAdrcovi ) napa ra rirrapa oroide la. See Harward's
note on Epinomis 981B.

8 Miss A. T. Nicol writes to me : 4 Plato may be suggesting that by sub-
stituting the dodecahedron and leaving out the other regular solids in turn,
as he has just left out the dodecahedron in the description of the elements,
five different cosmoi could be obtained.'

P.C. 221 Q

FIGURES ASSIGNED TO THE FOUR BODIES 55d-56c

55d-56c. Assignment of the regular figures to the four primary bodies

55D. Let us next distribute the figures whose formation we have
now described, among fire, earth, water and air.

To earth let us assign the cubical figure ; for of the four
e. kinds earth is the most immobile and the most plastic of
bodies.1 The figure whose bases are the most stable must
best answer that description ; and as a base,2 if we take
the triangles we assumed at the outset, the face of the
triangle with equal sides is by nature more stable than that
of the triangle whose sides are unequal ; and further, of the
two equilateral surfaces respectively composed of the two
triangles, the square is necessarily a more stable base than
the triangle, both in its parts and as a whole. Accordingly
56. we shall preserve the probability of our account, if we assign
this figure to earth ; and of the remainder the least mobile
to water, the most mobile to fire, and the intermediate figure
to air. Again, we shall assign the smallest 3 body to fire,
the largest to water, and the intermediate to air ; and again
the body with the sharpest angles to fire, the next to air,
the third to water.

Now, taking all these figures, the one with the fewest
faces (pyramid) must be the most mobile, since it has the
sharpest cutting edges and the sharpest points in every
b. direction, and moreover the lightest, as being composed
of the smallest number of similar parts 4 ; the second

1 * Plastic as retaining any shape into which it is moulded. * Immobile '
is equivalent to ‘ hard to move ' ( SvoKlvrjTos below ; ‘ unyielding ’, ‘ sluggish
A.-H.), not 4 stable ', for the icosahedron (water) is said to be the hardest to
move of the other three bodies, whereas it is the least stable of them (a fact
noted at 58D). In a mixed mass of solids of all the types the cubes would
be the hardest to shift, the pyramids the easiest because their edges and
points are sharp, so that a slighter thrust would push them between the
rest. The next sentence argues that earth is hardest to shift and most plastic
because it is also the most stable.

2 pdois here takes its meaning from the paocis preceding : the face which
serves as base for a solid to stand on ; accordingly, as applied to the triangles,
it means their faces considered as possible bases for solids (though none of
the solids actually has an elementary triangle as its face), not, as the ‘ base '
of a plane figure would ordinarily mean, one of the lines containing it. Cf.
Tr., p. 380.

* As Tr. remarks (p. 381), we shall hear later that there are several grades
of size for each primary body, but that point is left out of account until it
is actually mentioned at 57c. It is here assumed that all three bodies have
equilateral faces of the same size.

4 €X(uf>p6raTov must mean * lightest ’ (not * nimblest ', A.H., which =

evKivTjTOTarov) , since the reason is the small number of parts ; so Aristotle,
de caelo 299B, 31. Cf. 58E, Water composed of large particles is harder to

222

FIGURES ASSIGNED TO THE FOUR BODIES

56b. (octahedron) must stand second in these respects, the third
(icosahedron), third. Hence, in accordance with genuine
reasoning as well as probability, among the solid figures we
have constructed, we may take the pyramid as the element
or seed of fire 1 ; the second in order of generation (octa-
hedron) as that of air ; the third (icosahedron) as that of
water.

Now we must think of all these bodies 2 as so small that

c. a single body of any one of these kinds is invisible to us
because of its smallness ; though when a number are aggre-
gated the masses of them can be seen. And with regard to
their numbers, their motions, and their powers in general,
we must suppose that the god adjusted them in due pro-
portion, when he had brought them in every detail to the
most exact perfection permitted by Necessity willingly
complying with persuasion.

The last paragraph adds to the determination of the shapes the
adjustment in due proportion of the numbers, motions, and powers
of the primary bodies. ‘ Numbers ' or ‘ quantities' (jiArjOrj) prob-
ably means the total quantities of the several kinds, as at 57c the
same word means the main mass of each kind. We conjectured
that these quantities were the terms in the geometrical proportion
fixed by the Demiurge at 31 b ff. The motions and powers are
those varying and active qualities which figured in the description
of the bodily as without plan or measure before the geometrical
shapes were fashioned (53A). The mention of them is immediately
followed by a reference to Necessity ; they belong to the Errant
Cause, but the Demiurge introduces as much order and proportion
as Necessity allows. As we have remarked, the particles of the
primary bodies are not simply portions of empty space partitioned

move and heavy ; 59c, Bronze is lighter than gold because it has larger
interstices. According to the analysis of lightness and heaviness at 62c ff.,
a larger quantity of any primary body is heavier than a smaller one, and
this only means that it offers a greater resistance to the attempt to force it
away from its proper region. Since it will be forced into the region of another
element and have to make its way through that, the ‘ nimblest ’ body wiU
also be the * lightest \ It will be easier to force a fire pyramid in among the
octahedra of air, than to force an octahedron in among the pyramids.

1 ‘ Element ’ (‘ unit *, Tr.) because, when the pyramid is broken up into
the elements proper (the triangles), fire ceases to exist as such, with the
* motions and powers ’ characteristic of it (though on this point Plato is not
quite clear later). * Seed * (a term applied to the microscopic bodies in
Anaxagoras' system) is added to show that 4 element ' has this sense here.

2 All the four, to which these concluding remarks apply (not, as Tr. says,
p. 382, the three last named only).

223

TRANSFORMATION OF THE PRIMARY BODIES 56c-57c

off by geometrical planes, but animated and filled with motions
(changes) and powers, which are vigorously exercised in the warfare
described in the next paragraph. As in the Theaetetus (above,
p. 204), these changes and powers are conceived as existing in the
primary bodies, apart from any effects they may produce on
sentient beings.

56C-57C. Transformation of the primary bodies

Now that the regular solids have been assigned to the four kinds
of body, the transformation of some of them into others can be
described in terms conditioned by the assumptions of that theory.
These are : (1) that particles can be broken down into their
triangular or square faces, and these faces again into the elementary
triangles out of which they were ‘ put together * ; (2) that these
elementary triangles can continue to exist, drift about in space,
and recombine into the same or different figures ; with the limitation
(3) that earth triangles, being of a different pattern, can only
recombine as earth particles. The description of the various
processes is extremely condensed, and has consequently been mis-
understood.

The first section is concerned with the upward transformation,
in the direction from earth through the intermediate bodies to fire.
Three cases of resolution are described, the principal agent being
fire, the most active, mobile, and penetrating of the four solids.
We are told how it acts on earth, water, air, breaking down the
less mobile figures, so that their elementary triangles are set free
to recombine.

56c. Now, from all that we have said in the foregoing account
concerning the kinds,1 the following would be the most

d. probable description of the facts.

Earth, when it meets with fire and is dissolved by its
sharpness, would drift about — whether, when dissolved, it be
enveloped in fire itself or in a mass of air or of water — until
its own parts somewhere encounter one another, are fitted
together, and again become earth ; for they can never pass
into any other kind.

1 Reading nepl A*FWY : ttnmcp A. Burnet, Rivaud and Tr. prefer
u>v7T€p, but this involves translating eV navrcov by ‘ on the whole account \
which is not normal Greek for ck iravrtov rovrajv, and djvrrep ra y4v rj TrpoeiprjKapev
by * the things whose kinds we have named whereas the things in question
are the 1 kinds ’. If a copyist happens to omit a stroke which has to be added
by a corrector and the result is a reading which can only be construed by
forcing the language, it is not really scientific to defend the mistake as a
‘ lectio difficilior \

224

TRANSFORMATION OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

Fire breaks down earth. This first case is the action of heat
on solid bodies (' earth '), whether these are actually burnt in a
flame or ‘ enveloped ' in a surrounding mass of air or water. The
faces of the earth-cubes, or their constituent triangles, can only
recombine as cubes. There can be no transformation into water
or air or fire. This, as we have seen, is simply a consequence of
assigning the cubical figure to earth. In the other two cases
transformation does occur.

56D. But (1) when water is divided into parts by fire, or again by
air, it is possible for one particle of fire and two of air to arise

e. by combination ; and (2) the fragments of air, from a single
particle 1 that is dissolved, can become two particles of fire.

(1) Fire (or air) breaks down water. When water is boiled, it
passes into hot steam and vapour, which disappears into the air ;
or again water is evaporated by air heated by the sun. The
neighbouring air will become warmer. The theory explains this
by supposing that the 20 faces of each icosahedron (water) are
regrouped as 2 octahedra (air) and 1 pyramid (fire). The presence
of the fire-pyramid will account for the air being warmed. The
numbers of the faces thus make a complete transformation of water
(partly into air, partly into fire) ' possible \ It is not said that the
transformation must always be complete ; but it is Plato's purpose
to show that, if you start with any number of icosahedra of water,
their constituents can be completely transformed into fire pyramids,
after passing through the intermediate stage here described, in
which some air particles and some fire particles are produced.
The intermediate stage seems to be regarded as at least normal,
if not necessary ; for, so far as the figures go, there is nothing to
prevent the 20 faces of the icosahedron from reforming immediately
as 5 pyramids. The result, then, at this intermediate stage is
1 fire-pyramid and 2 octahedra of air. (2) Fire continues its
dissolving action and breaks down the newly formed octahedra,
each of which can yield two pyramids by recombination. The
final result of heating air is that it is wholly converted into fire.
The upward transformation of water, through air and fire, into
nothing but fire is thus theoretically possible.

We now pass to the downward transformation of (3) fire into air,
(4) air into water,

56E. And conversely, (3) when a little fire, enveloped in a large
quantity of air or water or (it may be) earth, is kept in motion

Upovs must here mean * particle * (cf. p.ifn\ vSaros, 6oe, 6ib), though
at D 4 means the elementary triangles.

225

TRANSFORMATION OF THE PRIMARY BODIES 56c-57c

56E. within these masses which are moving in place, and makes
a fight, and then is overcome and shattered into fragments,
two particles of fire combine to make a single figure of air.
And (4) when air is overpowered and broken small, from
two and a half complete figures, a single complete figure of
water will be compacted.

In the downward transformation (3) the most compact, mobile,
and active body has to be overpowered by more unwieldy antagon-
ists, which must consequently outnumber it. Hence we are told
that there must be a large quantity of the other bodies enveloping
only a small amount of fire. And the fire is represented as putting
up a fight ; like the rest, it is, in fact, forcing its way through the
others owing to the attraction of like to like, and, being the sharpest,
it will inflict more damage than it receives. But, if sufficiently
outnumbered, it will be overpowered and shattered. The faces of
two fire particles will then reform as a single air-particle, and the
transformation will again be complete. As before, it is not contem-
plated as likely that 5 fire pyramids should combine immediately
as 1 icosahedron of water. (4) The process continues in the reduc-
tion of the resulting air particles to water. In Nature this occurs,
presumably, in the formation of mist, cloud, and rain ; but Plato
speaks as if the air-particles required to be ' overpowered ' by the
clumsier water particles outnumbering them. The result may be
complete transformation into water, since 2\ octahedra will yield
the 20 faces required for a water particle.

The complete transformation, upwards from water to fire and
downwards from fire to water, has now been accounted for. Two
points remain to be added : (a) that no further change can occur,
beyond these limits, in either direction ; (/?) that the process will
not stop until the limits are reached. Both points are made with
reference (a) to the upward, ( b ) to the downward, process.

56E. Let us reconsider this account once more as follows.

(a) When one of the other kinds is enveloped in fire and
57. cut up by the sharpness of its angles and edges, then (a), if
it is recombined into the shape of fire, there is an end to the
cutting up ; for no kind which is homogeneous and identical
can effect any change in, or suffer any change from, that
which is in the same condition as itself. But (/?) so long as,
passing into some other kind, a weaker body is contending
with a stronger, the resolution does not come to an end.

Plato here lays down the principle that the ‘ active power '
(dvva/ug rov note tv) of a primary body can act only on what is

226

TRANSFORMATION OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

unlike it : the hot can only modify the cold, and so on. Hence
when the upward transformation is complete, nothing more can
happen.

In the second sentence (which has been misunderstood), ' passing
into some other kind ’ is contrasted with * if it is recombined into
the shape of fire * above. The case in question is that of water (not
air) under the action of fire. Water does not turn straight into fire,
but passes through the intermediate stage, in which the water
particle is regrouped as two particles of air and one of fire. Here
it is ‘ passing into some other kind ' than fire, namely air ; and in
that form the weaker body (air) is still contending with the stronger
(fire), which originally assailed it. If the fire is strong enough it
will not stop until it has broken down the remaining air particles
and turned the whole into fire.

The same two principles are now applied to the downward
transformation.

57A. And, on the other hand, (b) when a few smaller particles

b. are enveloped in a large number of bigger ones and are being
shattered and quenched,1 then, (a) if they consent to combine
into the figure of the prevailing kind, the quenching process
comes to an end : from fire comes air, from air, water.
But (/ 3 ) if they (the smaller particles) are on their way to
these 2 (air or water), and one of the other kinds meets them
and comes into conflict, the process of their resolution does
not stop until either they are wholly dissolved by the thrusting
and escape to their kindred, or they are overcome and a
number of them form a single body uniform with the
victorious body and take up their abode with it.

In this downward transformation, smaller bodies are being
broken down by larger ones : fire by air, air by water, (a) The
faces of the fire particles can recombine completely as air, those
of the air particles as water, and the process must then stop, for

1 ‘ Quenched ’ shows that Plato is thinking in particular of fire enveloped
in larger particles (as at 56E, 2) ; but the statement applies also to air passing
straight into water, as the last words of the sentence show.

2 Reading eav 8* els ravra (Y) or avra (A) ljj. As Tr. says, els aura (or
ravra) 177 cannot mean ‘ assail the others * (A.-H.), ‘ setzen sie aber den kampf
fort * (Apelt) ; this should be eV avra, and the meaning is irrelevant. Tr.'s
own suggestion that els rairrd. levai means ‘ come to terms ’ is not supported
by Apol. 36c (which he quotes), where els ravra lovra means ‘ by engaging
in these pursuits ' ; and in any case dXX^Xois would be required, els ravra
Uvol ‘ to be passing into these kinds * is like els aXXo elhos iXdetv (56D, 5), els
aXXo n yiyvofievov (57A, 5). An exact parallel is to e£ dipos els vbcop lov opJ.\ Xij,

1 mist is that which is on the way from air to water ' (66e),

227

TRANSFORMATION OF THE PRIMARY BODIES 56c-57c

the same reason as before : that like cannot act on like. (/?) The
second statement, like its parallel above, has been misinterpreted.
It explains what may happen to fire particles when passing through
the air stage ' on the way 1 to water. In that phase they may be
assailed by bodies of another kind. The breaking-down process
will then continue, and not be arrested at the point where all the
fire has become air. One of two results may follow: either the
loose triangles into which the newly formed air particles are broken
down again may escape to reform elsewhere as fire-particles, their
original ‘ kindred 1 1 ; or they may finally recombine as water (‘ the
victorious body '). In the latter case they take up their abode in
the region of water, and the process can go no farther.

The next paragraph explains how the perpetual transformation
of particles involves perpetual changes of direction. When a set
of air particles, for example, is converted into fire, they will cease
to be attracted towards the main mass of air, and begin to move
towards the main mass of fire.

57c. Moreover, in the course of suffering this treatment, they are
all interchanging their regions. For while the main masses
of the several kinds are stationed apart, each in its own
place, owing to the motion of the Recipient, the portions
which at any time are becoming unlike themselves and like
other kinds are borne by the shaking towards the place of
those others to which they become like.

The principle of motion here invoked is the attraction of like to
like, which already operated in the chaos described at 52D ff.
(p. 198). The shaking of the Recipient, acting like the winnowing-
basket, ‘ separated the most unlike kinds farthest apart from one
another, and thrust the most alike closest together ; whereby the
different kinds came to have different regions, even before the
ordered whole consisting of them came to be \ If this motion were
unchecked, it would sort out the primary bodies into four distinct
regions. But the process of transformation is constantly modifying
that tendency, as particles reformed into different kinds change
the region towards which they drift. The motion, in so far as it
is explained at all, is attributed to the qualities or powers of the
primary bodies — those ‘ vestiges of their own nature 1 which they
possess in abstraction from their geometrical shapes (53B). As we
have seen (p. 205), it must be finally due to blind irrational impulse

1 It will be suggested later (on 58A-C) that this alternative may be due to
the expansion in volume, consequent on the change of figure, leaving no room
for some of the loose elements to reform in any regular shape.

228

TRANSFORMATION OF THE PRIMARY BODIES

in the soul that animates the whole body of the world. Reason
has now contrived to establish some check upon the tendency by
endowing ther bodies with shapes which can be transformed into
one another. The motions are still blind and mechanical, but
Reason has subordinated these ' secondary causes ’ to its purpose
of keeping an ordered world in being.

If we attempt to go behind Plato’s description and ask after the
' real ’ nature of the process of dissolution and recombination, it
is doubtful whether we can expect any certain answer. One thing
is obvious : the transformation is based on surfaces and the
numbers of elementary triangles they contain, not on volumes.
Thus the eight faces of two fire pyramids make up an octahedron
of air ; but the volume of the octahedron will be more than twice
that of the pyramid. Also the reason why earth cannot pass into
any other figure lies in the different shapes of the elementary
triangles ; it is not that the volumes will not fit. But what is to
be made of the picture of plane surfaces being broken up and the
fragments drifting about till they find others to combine with ?
It cannot be taken literally. It was not necessary for Aristotle to
point out that geometrical planes cannot behave in this way ;
and there is no warrant for Martin’s suggestion that the surfaces
are thin plates of corporeal matter, forming boxes with a hollow
interior. What is the 4 matter ’ of which these plates are composed ?
And is the interior hollow in the sense of an absolute vacancy ?
Plato does not say so, but speaks of the contents of the figures as
qualities or ' motions and powers \1 The whole description of the
warfare of the primary bodies in the process of transformation
implies that these powers are actively operating. Without them
the geometrical figures could not move at all or break one another
down. The qualities are evidently conceived as existing in the
primary bodies quite independently of the sensations and percep-
tions of any possible observer.

Plato’s theory is capable of explaining why Nature contains a
number of definite recognisable substances, e.g. gold, silver, copper,
etc., and the other ‘ homceomerous ’ substances which had figured
in the systems of Empedocles and Anaxagoras. These stand out
as distinct things with a more or less constant group of characteristic
qualities ; there is not an infinite gradation of intermediate sub-

1 Cf. Rivaud, p. So : La thiorie des figures tltmentaires est destinte & expliquer
comment Vordre s‘ intro duit dans le chaos mouvant des qualitts. Par leurs
proprittts dtfinies et invariables, ces figures mettent une certaine fixitt dans le
devenir, Mais, elles rien forment pas la substance, qui reste constitute par les
qualitt s changeantes. Tr.’s discussion of this question is vitiated by his use
of Whitehead’s terminology (p. 409).

229

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES 57c-d

stances, through which gold, for example, shades off into copper.
Modern chemistry has explained the abrupt transitions which do
occur by the shifting of elementary factors from one definite
pattern to another. Plato's elementary factors are pictured as
triangular surfaces, whose regrouping provides for a sudden change
from water or air to fire. Such an account seemed to him ‘ likely
as covering phenomena which Democritean atomism could not
satisfactorily explain ; but he did not mean it to be taken as a
literal statement of what ' really ' happens.

The most questionable feature is the suggestion that triangular
surfaces which are not at the moment the surfaces of any solid
body can drift about by themselves. It will be suggested later
(p. 274) that this feature disappears when further details of the
theory are disclosed ; the account so far given is (as we shall soon
find) by no means complete. The description of the particles
which cause sensations of smell (66d) seems to imply that these
‘ loose ' triangles may be combined in irregular solids of a size
intermediate between the sizes of the regular solids.

57C-D. Each primary body exists in various grades of size

So far nothing has been said about the size of particles, except
that they are all microscopic. We now hear for the first time that
there are specific varieties of fire and the rest, due to the different
sizes of the triangles and consequently of the particles they
compose.

57c. In this way, then, the formation of all the uncompounded
and primary bodies is accounted for. The reason 1 why
there are several varieties within their kinds lies in the con-
struction of each of the two elements : the construction in

d. each case originally produced its triangle not of one size
only, but some smaller, some larger, the number of these
differences being the same as that of the varieties in the
kinds. Hence, when they are mixed with themselves or
with one another, there is an endless diversity, which must
be studied by one who is to put forward a probable account
of Nature.

These differences of size in the primary bodies introduce con-
siderable complications, which have not been sufficiently studied.

1 to (rov, FY) 8e eV rots clSeoiv avrwv erepa €firrc<f>VK4vai yivrj ttjv CKarepov rutv
arroixcUov alnareov ovoraoiv, fiij p.ovov ev eKarepav (sc. ovoraoiv) fi^yedos *Xov T®
rpiycDvov </>VT€vacu Kar apyas, aAA* fAarra) re kcu fiei£a> . . .

The subject of <f>vrcvoai is eVarcpav (ovoraoiv) , not the Demiurge. That
ovoraoiv has the active sense, ‘ putting together \ will be argued below.

230

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES

How will they affect the process of transformation, which has been
based on the assumption that the various bodies concerned are
composed of triangles of the same size, so that they can be
regrouped in the several figures ? This difficulty must now be
considered in conjunction with other obscure points that have been
noted by the way. In order to keep this topic within reasonable
bounds, Plato has stated only the main features of his theory,
hinting at the outset that he had in reserve a ‘ fuller account '
(tzXslcov XoyoQ, 54B) of the peculiar merits of the two triangles
chosen as elements. If we can reconstruct this, we shall be able
to clear up a number of difficulties that have never been explained.

The present passage tells us that there is a limited number of
varieties of each primary body, corresponding to different sizes of
pyramid, octahedron, etc., and that there are indefinitely numerous
combinations of all these varieties in composite bodies. At 58c
three varieties of fire will be mentioned. The list may not be
complete ; but the number is certainly limited, and probably
small, for all the sizes must be microscopic. What is not yet clear
is how there come to be different sizes of pyramid, etc. The
reason, we are told, lies in ‘ the construction of each of the two
elements (the half-equilateral and the half-square) : the construc-
tion ' in each case originally produced its triangle not of one size only,
but some smaller, some larger \ The editors take ‘ construction '
(ovaraoiv) in the passive sense, ' structure ’, which the word often
bears elsewhere. They understand the whole statement to mean
no more than that each of the two elementary triangles is of more
than one size. If that were all, Plato would have wrapped this
simple statement in a singularly clumsy form. But the sentence
cannot bear that meaning : it is impossible to say that the structure
of each elementary triangle produced the triangle which is the
structure in question.1 The word ovaraaiq must have its active
sense, ‘ putting together \2 We may paraphrase as follows : ‘ The
reason why there are several varieties within their kinds lies in the
way in which the elementary triangles of each of the two sorts are
put together : in each case the elementary triangles were put
together in such a way as to produce the corresponding triangle

1 Translators evade this absurdity by resorting more or less to paraphrase,
or by ignoring the fact that cVarcpav (cvoraotv) is the subject of tfivrcvaai.

2 Corresponding to the active awiaravai. Cf. 89c, rd rpiycova . . . aWa-
rarai, ‘ the triangles are put together ' ; 54E, ‘if 4 equilateral triangles
are put together (owiorapLeva) so that etc. 55A, * a second body is composed
of the same triangles when they are put together (avaravrcov) in a set of eight * ,
etc. At 89 a, avaraais means the ‘ bracing \ * pulling together ' of the body
by gymnastic exercise. Tr. there compares Laws 782 A noXea tv ovtrrdous teal
<t>6opas.

231

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES 57c-d

(the half-equilateral or the half-square J) not of one size only, but
some smaller, some larger We have to discover what can be
meant by putting together elementary half-equilaterals or half-
squares in such a way as to form larger or smaller half-equilaterals
or half-squares. But first we may state the difficulties that arise
from the interpretation commonly assumed. The consequences
are easily deduced.

Let us suppose that there are three sizes of the right-angled
scalene triangle which serves as element in the construction of
pyramid, octahedron, and icosahedron, and that each of the three
is to be an irreducible element. We shall then have three corre-
sponding grades of solids, each with an element somewhat larger
than the one before :

Fire-

Grade A v Air-Water

Grade B

Fire-

Air- Water

Fire-
ir- Water

The solids within each grade will be capable of transformation into
one another. There will thus be three parallel processes of trans-
formation ; but there can be no transformation from one grade to
another. Nothing in the previous account of the process has led
us to expect this startling and unsatisfactory result : that one
variety of fire can be transformed only into one variety of air or
water. Nor is there later any hint of such barriers between grades
of solids. Further there is an element of vagueness and casualness
in the supposition of three unspecified sizes with no definite ratio
between them, which ill accords with the emphatic declaration
that the Demiurge fixed the proportions with the greatest possible
accuracy down to the last detail (56c). In the summary at 69B
we shall hear again that the god, finding his materials in a dis-

1 * The triangle * cannot mean the equilateral triangular face of the three
solids, because the corresponding face of the fourth solid, the cube, is not a
triangle, but a square.

232

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES

orderly condition, introduced proportion and symmetry into the
internal relations of each one and their mutual relations, in every
way that was possible. If this is true, he must have established
some definite ratio between the sizes ; and, if he could, he would
surely fix upon some ratio that would permit of transformation
occurring freely between the grades.

Now there is one way in which this desirable result can be attained.
Transformation between grades will be possible, if the larger scalene
triangles are some definite multiple of the smaller, and if one larger
triangle (say of Grade B) can be composed of two or more smaller
triangles (of Grade A ). Consider the consequences of this supposi-
tion. The smallest scalene (Grade A) will now be the highest
common measure of the others ( B and C), which will be multiples
of it ; and that smallest scalene will be the irreducible element —
the otoi%£lov proper. The larger scalenes will be obtained by
putting together two or more of the smallest. Thus (as everything
said hitherto has led us to expect) there will be, strictly speaking,
only one irreducible element of each of the two types, scalene and
isosceles, not an unspecified number. The grades will now be
related by definite ratios, and transformation between grades will
be possible.

The next question is, whether larger scalene or isosceles triangles
can be built up out of smaller ones of the same type in the way
proposed. They can, because of a certain property possessed by
both elementary triangles, which we can now see to be one of the
reasons why they are the ‘ best ' that could be selected. It is a
property that had been regarded as characteristic of an ‘ element ' :

either of the two triangles can be subdivided without limit into
parts of the same type as itself. The half-square ABC is divisible
into two smaller half-squares ABO, BOC ; and Plato does in fact
so divide it, when he constructs the whole square face, A BCD, of
the cube. BOC , again, can be subdivided by dropping the per-
pendicular OE ; OEC by the perpendicular EF, and so on ad
infinitum . In the same way the half-equilateral, ABC, can be
subdivided into smaller half-equilaterals by bisecting the angle at

233

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES 57c-d

C and dropping the perpendicular OD. It is actually so subdivided
into three elementary scalenes in Plato’s figure (p. 216) ; and the

subdivision can be carried on ad infinitum.1 Plato, however, does
not continue the process indefinitely. He stops at a minimum
triangle (OBC) of each type, which is taken to be atomic. He
then builds the square out of 4 half-squares, the equilateral out of
6 half-equilaterals.

Here we encounter one of the points that we noted as never
having been satisfactorily explained. Why use 4 half-squares to
construct a square when 2 would suffice ? Why 6 half-equilaterals,
when 2 would suffice — a fact which Plato himself mentioned where
the scalene element was originally described as ‘ such that a pair of
them compose the equilateral triangle ’ (54A) ? Evidently he was
aware that there were at least two ways of composing an equilateral
out of this element. The seemingly arbitrary procedure can be
explained by supposing that, in the earlier construction of the four
solids, Plato intended to describe solids of an intermediate size —
Grade B — not of the smallest possible grade (A). He deliberately
used more elementary triangles than would have been required, if
he had had only one grade of solid in mind. Solids of the smallest
grade could be produced quite simply by forming the equilateral
and the square each out of two elements ; and he could have built
his pyramids, cubes, and the rest just as well. Moreover, if there
were only one grade of solids, all the transformations described
could occur between them. He chose to describe solids of a larger
grade because he wanted to suggest that there are in fact several
grades, and that when these larger solids are broken down into
elements, those elements can be recombined in several ways. Thus
the 6 scalenes in the equilateral face of a pyramid can recombine,
in pairs, to make three equilateral faces for pyramids or octahedra
or icosahedra of the lower grade. Or, as in the cases actually
described, the transformation may be into solids of the same grade.

1 Since the triangles, not the solids, are Plato's * elements ', this meets
Aristotle's objection that not every part of a pyramid or cube is a pyramid
or cube. ‘ Homoeomereity ’ was first clearly defined by Anaxagoras, but
Empedocles had no doubt already assumed that every part of fire was fire.

234

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES

Or again, the elements might go towards the formation of solids
of a still higher grade (C), and of as many more higher grades as
are required to account for the actual varieties of the primary
bodies in question. An advantage of this scheme is that it would
make it possible for there to be more — perhaps many more —
varieties of (say) water 1 than there are of fire ; and yet transforma-
tion could occur between them all.

The results may be illustrated by taking some of the possible
transformations of Plato's solids of the intermediate grade (B) into
solids of the smallest grade (A) :

Grade B Grade A

Solid Equilateral faces

composed of
6 elements

i pyramid = 4

i octahedron = 8

i icosahedron — 20

Further, we can see what would suggest to Plato's mind the
building of his solids out of these elements, namely, the proper
geometrical construction of the figures as it appears in Euclid.
The problem : ‘To construct a pyramid, and to comprehend it in
a given sphere, etc.,' is solved in Euclid xiii, 13. The solution
either was due to Theaetetus or had been discovered earlier ; it
was certainly known to Plato. We have seen an allusion to the
circumscribing sphere at 55 A. Now the demonstration involves a
theorem proved in the preceding proposition (xiii, 12) : ‘ If an
equilateral triangle be inscribed in a circle, the square on the side
of the triangle is triple of the square on the radius of the circle.'
The figure, as it appears in Euclid, is given by the unbroken lines
in the accompanying diagram. BD = the radius OD. It is also
the side of a hexagon inscribed in the circle (as the demonstration
mentions). The dotted lines inside the circle complete the hexagon,
as in the figure at iv, 15 (‘ In a given circle to inscribe an equilateral
and equiangular hexagon '). The diagram so completed exhibits
Plato's equilateral triangle ABC divided into the 6 elementary
triangles. The hexagon contains 12 of these elementary triangles,
all equal to one another. In this proposition (xiii, 12), Euclid
1 * Water * is a wide term, covering the fusible metals (58D ff.).

235

Elements

Equilateral faces
composed of
2 elements

48 =

120

= GO =

Solid

3 pyramids or
1 octahedron
+ 1 pyramid.
6 pyramids, or
3 octahedra, or
1 icosahedron
-f 1 pyramid.
1 5 pyramids, or
6 octahedra +
3 pyramids, or
3 icosahedra.

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES 57c-d

proves that the square on AB is triple the square on the radius
or on BD, which = the radius. Thus the gist of the proposition

is that the larger triangle ABD is of the same type as the half-
equilateral ABE :

In ABE, BE = i , AB = 2, AE = VJ

In ABD, BD = 1, AD — 2, AB = V3.

In other words, if you add one elementary triangle BED to the
half-equilateral ABE, you obtain a larger half-equilateral ABD.

The figure suggests some further consequences : (i) All the

smallest triangles are of Plato's elementary type. (2) Two of
them form the equilateral OBD, the base of the solids of the smallest
possible grade. (3) Six of them form the equilateral ABC, actually
constructed by Plato, as the base of his Grade B solids. (4) This
large equilateral, ABC, can be regarded as composed of two half-
equilaterals, AEB and A EC, each of the same type as the three
elements which compose it. (5) There is also (as Eucl. xiii, 12,
demonstrates) a still larger half-equilateral ABD of the same
pattern, composed of 4 elements. Two of these make up a larger
equilateral ADF , containing 8 elements, and also divisible into
4 of the smallest equilaterals (OBD, etc.). ADF would serve as
base for solids of the next largest type (Grade C). (b) In the same

way, you can go on to still larger bases and solids, as shown, for
example, in the following diagram, in which the five equilateral
triangles, ODC, ABC , ADE, AFG , AH J are respectively composed
of 2, 6, 8, 18 and 24 elements.

It will now be clear why Plato chose the right-angled scalene
for his element, instead of the equilateral. This was one of the
obscurities we noted. The pyramid, octahedron, and icosahedron
all have the equilateral triangle as their base. Why did not Plato
simply take the equilateral triangle as the element of these solids,
and the square as the element of the cube ? These figures have the
strongest claim to simplicity and 4 beauty ' or perfection : all their

236

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES

sides and all their angles are equal.1 The simplest way to make a
pyramid or octahedron or icosahedron is to put together 4, or 8,

or 20 equilateral triangles. The transformation of the elements (ii
it is confined to one grade of solids) can be effected just as well by
breaking down the solids into their equilateral faces and regrouping
these, without breaking down the faces themselves into smaller
elements. Why, then, did Plato analyse his equilateral face into
6 elements, which have less prima facie claim to perfection ? And
why did he analyse the square face of the cube into 4 half-squares ?

The objection to the simpler procedure, which takes the equilateral
and the square as faces, is this. If we take the equilateral as

elementary, the smallest pyramid (Grade A) will have one of these
elements as its face. The face of the next largest pyramid (on our
supposition that there is a definite ratio between the grades, such
that transformation from grade to grade is possible) can only be
formed by putting together 4 elementary equilaterals. But then
the Grade B pyramid will have a face 4 times the size of the Grade A
face ; and its volume will be more than 4 times as great. In
order to obtain the next largest grade (C), we shall need 9 elements,

1 So Speusippus (frag. 4, quoted by Tr., p. 370) ranks the equilateral first
among triangles, second the half-square, third the half-equilateral.

P.C. 237 R

GRADES OF SIZE OF PRIMARY BODIES 57c-d

and so on. The result would be that the intervals in size between
the grades of solids would be very large. The three varieties of fire,
for instance, would be too far apart ; and if (as seems to be the case)
there are considerably more than three varieties of water, it would
be hard to suppose that the icosahedra could all be microscopic.

The merit of Plato's elementary triangles is that they can yield
a series of equilateral or square faces which are much closer together
in size. In the light of Euclid's diagram and Plato's own hints
we obtain the following series of equilateral faces :

Grade A consists of 2 elements, as indicated at 54A. Grade B
is Plato's figure, with 6 elements. Grade C has 8 elements, or
2 half-equilaterals, ABD (as in Euclid’s figure) and ABF.

The same argument applies to the square face of the cube. If
the square be taken as the element, the Grade A cube will have
1 element as its face ; the Grade B face will require 4, and the

volume will be 8 times as great ; the Grade C face will take 9
elements and the volume be 27 times as great, and so on. The
volumes of the varieties of earth-cube will soon exceed micro-
scopic proportions. On our hypothesis the square bases will be as
follows, with 2, 4, 8, 16, etc., elements :

As before, Grade B is Plato's figure. The resulting cubes will
be much closer together in size than on the alternative plan.

238

MOTION AND REST

We have now found a satisfactory meaning for Plato's statement
that the existence of several varieties (grades) of each primary body
is due to the way in which the elementary triangles of either pattern
are put together to form larger or smaller triangles of the same
pattern. Our hypothesis not only removes all the difficulties which
have perplexed the commentators and satisfies Plato's declaration
that symmetry and proportion were introduced down to the
smallest detail, but finally restores to the text before us its only
possible sense. It is not surprising that Plato has left to the
reader the task of reconstructing from a few hints the * longer
account ’ which he held in reserve. Aiming at extreme compression,
he was content to state only the main outline of this theory, as of
his astronomy. The rest would be accessible to men * favoured by
heaven ' with a knowledge of geometry, and Timaeus has remarked
(53c) that his friends are in this respect well equipped. They had,
in fact, only to look at the figure which now illustrates Euclid xiii, 12,
and observe how that proposition is used in the construction of
the pyramid.

57D-58C. Motion and Rest

The next paragraph is concerned with motion and rest. It has
still to be explained why the four primary bodies are not sorted
out by the attraction of like to like into four separate homogeneous
masses. They would then settle down into a permanent state of
rest, since that attraction is the only mechanical force active in the
chaos described earlier, and, when it had completed its work,
nothing more could happen. The answer given here is not that
the world is animated by a self-moving soul, which can and must
constantly keep motion going. In this second part of the discourse
mechanical explanations are to be given, so far as they will go ;
we are concerned with secondary causes and what happens of
Necessity. The mover here is of that lower order which is itself
moved and transmits motion to other things. We are now being
told ‘ in what manner it is of the nature of the Errant Cause to
produce motion * (48 a) .

The first point is that motion of the mechanical sort can exist
and be kept going only in a condition of heterogeneity ; and the
theory of the solids has provided for this.

57D. Now concerning motion and rest, if we do not agree in what
manner and in what conditions they arise, many difficulties
will stand in the way of our subsequent reasoning. Some-
e. thing has already been said about them, but there is this
to be added : motion will never exist in a state of homo-

239

MOTION AND REST

57d-58c

57E. geneity. For it is difficult, or rather impossible, that what
is to be moved should exist without that which is to move
it, or what is to cause motion without that which is to be
moved by it. In the absence of either, motion cannot exist ;
and they cannot possibly be homogeneous. Accordingly,
we must always presume rest in a state of homogeneity, and
attribute motion to a condition that is heterogeneous.
58. Further, inequality is a cause of heterogeneity ; and the
origin of inequality we have already described.1

That motion presupposes heterogeneity was a main point in the
reasoning of Parmenides, who declared that if Being is one in
every sense, it must be homogeneous (ojuoiov) throughout, a con-
tinuous plenum, and motionless. Plato himself has asserted that
like, though it can attract, cannot alter or otherwise act upon like,
and when once like things have Come together, with no admixture
of the unlike, no further change can occur (57A). It follows that,
if there is to be motion, body can never have existed in the form
of a single substance, as the earliest Monists had supposed. There
must be at least two kinds of body with different powers, so that
the one may act on the other. Following Empedocles, Plato has
provided four, with opposite powers. The mechanical motion of
chaos was imagined as going on before the primary bodies were
given their regular shapes ; it was not a consequence of their
having those shapes or any other shape. The sorting out of like
to like in different regions was attributed to the mutual attraction
of like qualities (' motions and powers ’). Now, however, the
bodies have received their shapes, and these shapes are unequal
in size in two ways : each kind of body has a particle of a different
size from the rest, and there are several grades of each kind.
This may be what is meant by inequality as the cause of hetero-
geneity ; so the ‘ origin of inequality ’ has been stated in the
preceding paragraph.2 The different sizes of particles are dwelt
upon in the explanation that follows. This is a new factor, govern-
ing the behaviour of the primary bodies as they actually exist in
particles of unequal sizes.

It is probable, however, that ' inequality ’ refers also to the
‘ powers that were neither alike nor evenly balanced ' in the original
chaos (52E). ' The unequal ' (to Slvioov) is an alternative phrase

1 Obviously the mover here cannot be the soul, which belongs to a higher
order of existence. It could not be spoken of as either heterogeneous and
unequal, or homogeneous and equal, with the moved.

* At 58D, 4 heterogeneity ' (dvayxaAonys) is used for the non-uniformity due
to the unequal sizes of water particles, and so frequently.

240

MOTION AND REST

for the ‘ Great-and-Small ’ or the * More-and-Less * in quality.
In the Philebus qualities are represented as unlimited ranges
(dbzeiga), since there is always a hotter in one direction and a less

hot in the other.

' The equal

is a limit of quantity intro-

duced anywhere in this range, with * the unequal * extending
indefinitely on both sides. Accordingly the powers called hot and
cold, moist and dry, etc., were imagined as swaying in unbalanced
conflict before the Demiurge introduced limit, measure, numerical
proportion.

One effect of the introduction of geometrical shapes has already
been mentioned (57c). The reformation of the elements of dis-
integrated particles into particles of another kind is constantly
shifting the direction of the drift of like to like. We thus have a
somewhat more definite picture of the disorderly motion as a
mechanical process. But, if that were all, the result would still
be chaotic, shifting, rectilinear motions, not unlike the Democritean
chaos of atoms moving casually in all directions, colliding with
one another and so changing the directions of one another's motions.
If there were an unlimited void (as in Atomism), the result would
be that like bodies would tend to get together in homogeneous
masses, casually, at different places. And, if the atoms were
unlimited in number, as the Atomists assumed, vortices might
arise, here and there, and similar bodies might be sorted out by
the eddying motion into concentric layers. In Plato's scheme the
primary bodies are limited in number, and the result imagined is
the formation of four homogeneous masses, which, when completely
separated, would cease to move through one another or to change
in place. So the whole would come to permanent rest. Empedocles
had pictured such a condition as arising in the Realm of Strife
and persisting until Love began to pour in from outside and break
it up.

The next paragraph introduces a further factor distinguishing
Plato's scheme from Atomism. The primary bodies, limited in
quantity, are all confined within the spherical boundary of the
world's body, as described earlier (33B). Outside the sphere it is
probable that there is (as in Parmenides and Aristotle) not even
empty space. But even supposing that there were a void outside,
we are now given a mechanical reason why the primary bodies
all hold together in the spherical shape and are packed inside it
as closely as possible ; and why they perpetually move through
one another instead of sorting themselves out into separate regions,
like to like.

241

MOTION AND REST

57d-58c

58a. But we have not explained how it is that the several bodies
have not been completely separated apart in their kinds
and so ceased to pass through one another 1 and to change
their place. We must, then, resume our explanation as
follows. The circuit of the whole, when once it has com-
prehended the (four) kinds, being round and naturally
tending to come together upon itself, constricts them all and
alloWs {or tends to allow) no room to be left empty. Hence
B. fire has, more than all the rest, penetrated in among all the
others 2 ; and, in the second degree, air, as being second
in the fineness of its particles ; and so on with the rest.
For the kinds that are composed of the largest particles
leave the largest gaps in their texture, while the smallest
bodies leave the least.3 So the coming-together involved
in the condensing process 4 thrusts the small bodies together
into the interstices between the large ones. Accordingly,
when the small are set alongside the large, and the lesser
disintegrate 6 the larger, while the larger cause the lesser to
combine, all are changing the direction of their movement,
this way and that, towards their own regions ; for each, in
c. changing its size, changes also the situation of its region.
In this way, then, and by these means there is a perpetual
safeguard for the occurrence of that heterogeneity which
provides that the perpetual motion of these bodies is and
shall be without cessation.

The difficulty here lies chiefly in the opening sentence of the
explanation :

* The circuit (negiodog) of the whole, when once it has compre-
hended the (four) kinds, being round {xv^Xoregr/g) and naturally

1 tt}s hi aAAifAa )v Kiirfcrcajs (as distinct from <f>opas , locomotion) may mean
transformation. Cf. 54B, 81* aAA^Aow els aAAr/Aa yeveaiv ex€lv> an<f 49c-

2 Cf. 78A : ‘ Of all the kinds fire has the smallest particles and consequently
passes through (hiaxcopcT) water, earth, and air and all bodies composed of
these, and nothing is impervious to it.’

8 The icosahedra composing a mass of water, however closely packed,
must, owing to their shape, leave larger gaps between them than those left
between the octahedra (of the same grade) in a mass of air.

4 17 rijs niXyoews ovvohos . For the form of this phrase cf. Phaedo 97A,
17 crwohos tow 7r\7)olov aXXrjXajv redfjv ai, and Tim. 76c, rjj rriA ijaei rijs iffviecvs.

8 hiaKpivovroiv. If the particles were atoms, hiaKpiveiv could only mean
‘ separate * and ovyKpiveiv ‘ bring together ’ ; but since particles can be
broken up into elementary triangles, the breaking down and recombining of
these elements may be meant ; and the reference to change of figure seems
to imply this. As we have seen (56D), disintegration is chiefly caused by the
smallest body, fire. At 56E we learnt how the larger bodies (air and water)
cause fragments of the lesser to recombine in the larger figures.

242

MOTION AND REST

tending to come together upon itself (tiqoq airrjvavviivai), con-
stricts (acpiyyei) them all, and allows (or tends to allow, iq) no

room to be left empty/

There are several verbal ambiguities : negiodoQ can mean either
* circumference ' or ‘ revolution ' ; acpiyyei can mean ‘ constricts 1
(compresses) or simply ‘ embraces \ ‘ Circuit ' covers both ' circum-

ference ' and ' revolution ’ precisely because the word negiodog
(‘ journey round '), like circuitus and ' periphery ' (‘ carrying
round '), properly means both. The sphere is defined in Euclid xi,
Def. 14, as the figure traced ‘ when, the diameter of a semicircle
remaining fixed, the semicircle is carried round (negievexdiv) and
restored again to the same position from which it began to be
moved \ Hence the word circum-ference (n egupoga), the ‘ carrying
round ' of the semicircle whose sweep leaves this trace. The two
notions of rotatory movement and of the spherical figure traced
by it are inextricably associated. It is probable that both notions
are present here, for one of the works of Reason was to endow the
body of the world with spherical shape and with rotation (33Bff.),
though the word xvxXoregriQ (teres atque rotundus) is more appropriate
to shape than to movement, and is applied to the shape at 33B.
That earlier passage is here recalled. We were told, moreover,
that no part of the bodily was left outside the sphere, just as we
are told here that the circuit of the whole completely comprehends
the primary bodies. Spherical shape, then, including all the
bodily, is a new factor here introduced, as a work of Reason,
which imposes conditions on the movement of the primary bodies,
as hitherto described.

We know also that the spherical mass is rotating, and that its
motion at the circumference is the swiftest of all motions. But
Taylor is right in objecting to the view of Archer-Hind and others
that the rest of the sentence ascribes to spherical rotation a con-
stricting force. Archer-Hind translated : ‘ The revolution of the
whole, when it had embraced the four kinds, being circular, with
a natural tendency to return upon itself , compresses everything and
suffers no vacant space to be left/ He speaks of the whole globe
being 'subject to a mighty constricting centripetal force' or
‘ inward pressure ', which he compares to the force ‘ exerted in
winding a hank of string into a round ball \ ‘ This ', he says, ' is
the second of Plato's two great dynamic powers/ 1 But a spherical
mass, rotating as a whole, does not set up any constricting force.

1 Mondolfo, U infinite* nel pensiero dei Greci, p. 315, also speaks of the
pressure exercised by rotatory motion contracting the universe into a smaller
space, and infers that there must be an infinite void outside.

243

MOTION AND REST

57d-58c

Anyone who has been driven or swung round a sharp curve will
be aware that the motion tends to throw him outwards and would
do so if it were not counteracted by another force acting towards
the centre.1 Taylor points out this defect and denies any reference
to forces of pressure. He understands neglodog to mean * circum-
ference ', and ocptyyei as meaning ' encompasses round about \
Timaeus, he thinks, says ' only that " the round of the all " encom-
passes the particles of the “ roots ", so that no space is left for
them to “ drift " off to infinity in. It is the round shape and
finitude of the all, not an imaginary centripetal force set up by
the " rotation ” which “ leaves no space vacant "/ * The ovqavog
being finite and round ; the particles cannot get too far away from
one another * (p. 398). That is all.

I agree that ‘ circuit ' means (at least primarily) the ‘ circum-
ference ’, which comprehends the whole of the primary bodies.
This is, indeed, rendered almost certain by the parallel passage
(8ia) where the substances in the blood are said to be ‘ compre-
hended by the living creature (the microcosm) framed like a heaven
(ovgavov) ' to include them, and to be ' constrained to reproduce
the movement of the All ', as here described. On this view the
meaning will be : (1) that Reason has confined all the particles
within a spherical figure, so that similar particles cannot congregate
just anywhere in an unlimited space ; and (2) that the rotatory
movement natural to a sphere, coming round as it does in a closed
circle and not expanding outwards (as, say, a spiral would do),2
allows no vacant intervals to be formed between the congregating
masses inside. The particles are always packed together as closely
as possible within a rigid boundary. Hence the attraction of like
to like has to operate inside the closed sphere. Consequently fire,
instead of being free to fly off to a distance from air or water, must
force its way through the coarser particles in order to reach its
like ; air must force its way through water, and so on.3 The
result will be (as Plato says) that, so far as possible, no vacant

1 Anaxagoras ( Vors . Ayi ) invoked this tendency to account for rocks
being torn off the earth rrj evrovLq. rrjs rrcpihwJjoeais and flung outwards to form
the heavenly bodies (Tr., p. 397).

2 Contrast the world-forming vortex in Anaxagoras, which 1 began to
revolve first from a small beginning, but is now spreading further, and will
spread further still as it takes in more and more of the surrounding mass
(frag. 12).

* Cf. Albinus' paraphrase : Blotl rfj rod kog/xov Trepuftopa o<f>tyyop€va avvcodeirat
Kal oweXawopeva npos aXXrjXa <f>€p€ra t Ta XerrropepkcrraTa els ras ru>v a8pop€p€arepajv
Xcbpas. 81a rovro 8k tcevov xmoXciireTaj. od>p.aros eprjfxov (Didasc. xiii). Tim.

Locr. 98E, anaVra S' <5v nXrfpvj evri , ovhkv xreveov d-rroXeiTrovTa. owayerai 8k rq.
Tr€puf>opq rat rravrof, Kal rjpeiopdva rpLfierat pkv ap.oifta.86v . . .

244

MOTION AND REST

interstices will be left within the sphere. A heterogeneous mass of
particles with all the shapes and sizes described cannot be packed
so as to leave no interstices at all. But ‘ the coming-together
involved in the condensing process 1 (tf rrjg mXrjoeax; ofoodog) is
always driving the smaller particles into the spaces left between
the larger. Fire, as the smallest, sharpest, and most easily moved,
penetrates, above all, in among the rest and exercises its dis-
integrating power by breaking up the clumsier particles of air and
water. All this has been described already. Particles of all three
kinds are shattered, and their elements reform as other kinds and
change the direction of their drift towards their new kindred.1
The result finally stated is that this transformation perpetually
maintains that heterogeneity which is the condition of perpetual
motion. We can now see, in fact, why the four kinds have not
permanently come to rest, in separate regions, each as a homogeneous
mass in which no change could occur.

It is probable that Plato is allowing for another factor that
would certainly be involved, though nothing very clear is said
about it. The ' thrusting together ' of the particles may be partly
produced by the changes of volume resulting from transformation.
When two fire pyramids are reformed as one air octahedron, the
volume is increased.2 This would be obvious to anyone who had
ever followed the geometrical construction of the regular solids or
seen models of them. Such increases of volume must occur in the
downward transformation, from fire through air to water, as
described at 56E and 57B. This is the ‘ condensing process ', as
appears from the traditional account of it at 49c. The expansion
of volume will set up thrusts and cause further disturbances :
intercepted particles will be crushed by their expanding neighbours
* coming together ', and their debris will fill the original interstices.
At 57B one of the things that may happen to the smaller particles
in the downward transformation is that ‘ they are wholly dissolved
by the thrusting and escape to their kindred \ When the elements
of some of the smaller particles recombine as water-icosahedra,
they leave no room for others to reform as regular bodies of any size.
If this factor of expanding volume is allowed for, we must suppose

1 It is not explained where earth comes into the scheme. There is nothing
to show what sizes the earth cubes have, as compared with the other bodies.
Cubes can be packed so as to leave no interstices ; yet at 6oe we hear that
interstices between earth cubes are so large that fire or air particles can slip
into them without disturbance.

2 I cannot understand why Tr. thinks that Timaeus is supposed not to
know this, though Plato knew it (p. 395). A moment’s reflection would show
that a double pyramid with its 6 faces must have less volume than an
octahedron with 8 faces.

245

VARIETIES OF PRIMARY BODIES 58c-61c

that on the whole a balance is maintained : the expansion involved
in the downward condensing process in one place must be com-
pensated by the contraction involved in the upward process towards
fire somewhere else. This compensation is in full accord with the
Heraclitean conception of the ‘ way up and down \1 along which
transformation is always taking place in both directions.

It is not explicitly stated, here or elsewhere, that the main
masses of the primary bodies form four concentric spherical layers,
with fire on the outside (in the stars) and earth at the centre. This
is no doubt assumed as an obvious fact, recognised in other cosmo-
logies. The order of the layers could be explained as due to the
rotatory movement (a work of Reason), sifting the more mobile
particles towards the circumference, the less mobile towards the
centre, on the familiar analogy of an eddy in water collecting the
heavier floating objects at its centre. Aristotle says that this
analogy was invoked by ‘ all those who try to generate the heavens,
to explain why the earth came together at the centre * (de caelo

58C-61C. Varieties and compounds of the primary bodies

We have learnt that each of the regular solids exists in a limited
number of different grades of size. There are, accordingly, (1) a
corresponding number of grades of (say) water, each composed of
particles of uniform size. There are, besides, (2) non-uniform
varieties of water (etc.), consisting of particles of water only, but
of more than one grade ; and (3) compounds of more than one
primary body, e.g. earth and water. Since all grades of all the
primary bodies can enter into such compounds, there will be a very
large variety of possible combinations (57D). These three classes
embrace the recognisable substances which occur in Nature, many
of which have received names, while others are nameless. They
form the subject of the following section.

The three classes are not kept entirely distinct ; but the account
starts from the simplest case, namely (1) varieties of fire, or air,
or water, which differ in the grade of the particles severally com-
posing them, and the transformation of any one of these varieties
into another variety of the same primary body, by change of some
or all of the particles to a higher or lower grade.

58c. Next we must observe that there are several varieties of
fire : flame ; that effluence from flame which does not bum
but gives light to the eyes ; and what is left of fire in glowing
d. embers when flame is quenched. And so with air : there is

1 oBos ava> Kara), cf. 58B, 9, navr' avco Kara) fxcTa^eperai.

246

FLUIDS AND METALS

58d. the brightest and clearest kind called ' aether ', and the most
turbid called ' murk ' and ' gloom \1 and other nameless
kinds, whose formation is accounted for by the inequality
of the triangles.

Light, which Plato regards as a body given off by flame, has
already been described at 45B. It is similar to the visual current
of ' pure fire ' which is so fine that it alone can filter through the
close texture of the eyeball. We may infer that it consists of
particles of smaller grades than flame or glowing heat. It has the
quality or * power ' of brightness, but not that of heat, possessed
by the other two varieties. We do not feel light as hot, presumably
because of the extreme fineness of the pyramids ; the pricking of
their points would not disturb the coarser fabric of flesh. In the
later account of colour (67D ff.), at least three grades of fire are
invoked, corresponding to differences of colour.

It is not actually stated whether each of the varieties of fire and
air here mentioned consists of pyramids or octahedra all of the
same grade. The last words, ‘ whose formation is accounted for
by the inequality of the triangles ', are ambiguous. They might
mean that two varieties of air differ in that each is composed of
uniform octahedra of a different grade from the other, or that
some varieties are composed of octahedra of different grades. Plato
may have intended to leave this question open, being aware that
he had no means of deciding it one way or the other. In either
case, however, if our hypothesis was correct, the transformation of
one variety into another variety of the same primary body is
possible ; and such transformation between grades is in fact
described in the following paragraph about water. We may
understand, accordingly, that ‘ murk J, for example, can be trans-
formed into aether by being broken down into its elementary
triangles, which then reform into a larger number of smaller-grade
octahedra.

Water, liquid and fusible : melting and cooling of the fusible. — The
formations consisting of water particles (icosahedra) present an
additional complication. They include a large number of varieties,
which will be classified under two main types, according as they

1 ojuxhrj and okotos here are varieties of air, not mixtures of air and water ;
so the word ‘ mist ’ is better avoided, though * fog ' might serve. They
consist of octahedra of a larger grade than those of ‘ aether \ Possibly also
the particles are more closely packed together, like those of the * violently
compressed air ’ at 61 a (so A.-H.). Later (66e) we shall hear of mist (ofilx^n)
and vapour (icairv6s) as composed, apparently, of irregular particles inter-
mediate in size between icosahedra of water and octahedra of air and formed
as air is passing into water or water into air.

247

FLUIDS AND METALS

58c— 61c

are normally found in the liquid or in the solid state. The liquid
type will include what we commonly call fluids : ordinary water,
oil, wine, etc. The fusible .type will contain the metals, gold,
copper, etc. But fluids can1 pass from the liquid to the solid state,
as when water freezes into ice ; and the metals are ' fusible ' solids,
i.e. they can pass into the liquid state. Accordingly, before the
varieties of fluids and metals can be described and illustrated, it
is necessary to define the characteristics of liquid formations
(to fryQOV yhot;) and solid formations (to nemjydg yho<;), as such, and
explain the processes of heating and cooling, whereby a fusible
substance can pass from one condition to the other, without changing
its nature ; for molten copper is still copper. It is not suggested
that the melting process can turn copper into any other metal, still
less into a fluid, such as ordinary water or oil.

58D. Of water, the primary division is into two types : (1) the
liquid, and (2) the fusible.

(1) The liquid, because it contains portions of the small
grades of water, unequal in size, is in itself mobile and can
be readily set in motion by something else, owing to its
non-uniformity and the shape of its figure.
e. (2) The other (fusible) type composed of large and uniform
particles is harder to move than the former and heavy,
being set hard by its uniformity. But under the action of
fire, making its way in and breaking it down, it loses its
uniformity, and consequently becomes more mobile ; and
when it has become quite easy to move, under the thrust
of the neighbouring air it is spread over the ground. Each
of these two processes has received a name : * melting ' for
the reduction in bulk of the particles, 1 flowing ' for the
spreading over the ground.

59. When, on the contrary, the fire is being expelled from' it
again, since the fire does not pass out into vacancy, the
neighbouring air receives a thrust and itself thrusts together
the liquid mass, while it is still quite easily moved, into the
places left by the fire and makes it a homogeneous combina-
tion. The liquid, being so thrust together and regaining its
uniformity, as the fire which created the lack of uniformity
departs, settles into its original state. The departure of the
fire is called ‘ cooling ’ ; the contraction that follows on its
withdrawal is referred to as * being in a solid state ’.

The characteristic of the liquid state is mobility. A liquid is
mobile ‘ in itself ’, that is, by virtue of its structure, and hence
easily set in motion by an impulse from outside. A formation of

248

MELTING AND COOLING

water particles will be mobile when it consists of particles that are
(i) comparatively small, (2) of different grades, not ' uniform \1
When it is added that mobility is also due 1 to the shape of the
figure \ Plato seems to be thinking of the contrast between (normally
liquid) water and (normally solid) earth, the icosahedron being a
less stable figure than the cube (55E). Similarly at 59D ordinary
water is said to be soft because its faces are less stable than those
of earth cubes. This is strictly irrelevant here, since all water
formations consist of icosahedra, and this contrast has nothing to
do with the difference between the liquid and fusible types of water.

The solid state is characterised by immobility, due to (1) com-
parative largeness and (2) comparative uniformity of the particles.
The process by which a fluid, such as water, is solidified into ice
will be described later (59D). Here Plato considers only the
melting and cooling of the fusible type — the metals. It follows
from the above definitions of the liquid and the solid, that the
reduction of a metal to the liquid state must involve (1) reduction
in size of some of the water-particles, and (2) the consequent
diminution of its original uniformity.

The description of melting and cooling is interesting because it
involves that transformation between grades of the same kind of
body which our hypothesis has shown to be possible. The earlier
account of the action of fire on water (and air) was concerned only
with the transformation of one primary body into another, as a
process occurring within a single grade ; for at that stage no
differences of grade had been mentioned. In melting and cooling
there is no such transformation : the ‘ water ' remains water
throughout ; only its structure is changed.

Metal in the solid state consists, then, of icosahedra which are
comparatively large in size and uniform in grade : absolute uni-
formity is not intended, for gold is said to have the ' most uniform '
particles, and copper has particles of several grades (59B). Metal
is also described as ‘ heavy \ apparently in the same sense that
fire was called the lightest of the three bodies (fire, air, water), ‘ as
being composed of the smallest number of similar parts ', while
water was the heaviest (56B). Owing to the size and uniformity
of its particles metal is set hard, or solid (nemjyog). Melting begins
when fire particles from outside penetrate into the interstices
between the icosahedra. The resulting change is less violent than
the process described earlier, where the conflict of fire and water
led to the transformation of the vanquished body into the victorious

1 ‘ Uniform * wiU be used for 61*0X6$, meaning * of the same grade in size * ;
' homogeneous ’ will mean ‘ consisting of only one kind of primary body
not a compound of several kinds.

249

MELTING AND COOLING

58c-61c

one. In melting there is no conversion of fire into water or of water
into fire. Apparently the fire particles remain uninjured within the
mass of metal, which consequently becomes hotter. But as more
and more fire particles force their way in they begin to break down
some of the icosahedra into their triangles. These dislocated
fragments are able to reform themselves into icosahedra of a smaller
grade. The metal thus passes into the liquid condition, since it
now contains an increasing proportion of smaller particles, which
may be further reduced to yet smaller grades. In this way melting
means ' the reduction of the bulks ' (of particles) 1 to a lower grade
in size. Apparently this reduction does not suffice to make room
for all the fire particles. The metal consequently expands, and
the expansion sets up a thrust from the surrounding air which is
itself, perhaps, supposed to be expanded by fire invading it from
the source of heat ; for the air near melting metal is heated. The
thrust spreads out the now fluid metal and sets it flowing over
the ground.

In the reverse process of cooling, the fire particles are expelled
into the neighbouring air, which they heat and expand. The
metal is at first in the liquid state, consisting of particles of unequal
sizes. The thrust communicated to the air by the fire which is
expanding it causes the metal to pass back from the liquid state
to the solid. This means that the small icosahedra reform them-
selves as large icosahedra of their original grade, filling once more
the spaces left vacant by the fire as it passes out. The result is
described by three phrases : the water ' regains its uniformity ' (in
respect of the size of icosahedra) ; it settles ' into its original state ' ;
and the air * makes it a homogeneous combination * 2 (of one
primary body only), by thrusting the water together into the spaces
vacated by fire. Some details of the two processes are not com-
pletely explained. Plato would not have vouched for them all ;
he only means that something of this sort must happen, and the
mechanical explanation can at any rate be carried thus far.

Some varieties of the fusible type (metals) : gold, adamant, copper . —
From this general description of the liquid and fusible types we

1 rr}v tu>v oyK(av KdOaipcdiv has not been understood by the commentators,
who have not worked out the possibilities of transformation between grades
of the same body. They have supposed that the elementary triangles are
dilated by fire (Martin) or that particles are simply reduced to loose triangles,

* vagrant plane surfaces ' (Tr.).

.* avrov avr<p ovfxp^Cywoiv must mean ‘ makes it a combination of water
with water ' ( not * with air ’), instead of a combination of water and fire.
Cf. crvfjifieiywfidva avra. irpos avra (57D> 4) the combination of a primary
body with itself (in that case, with other grades of itself) . avr u> cannot mean

* with air *, because there is no air in the normal metal.

250

EXAMPLES OF METALS

now pass to an account of a few varieties of the metals, which
are species of the fusible class, found normally in the solid state.

59. Of all these fusible varieties of water, as we have called

b. them, one that is very dense, being formed of very fine and
uniform particles, unique in its kind, tinged with shining 1 and
yellow hue, is gold, the treasure most highly prized, which
has been filtered through rock and there compacted.

The ' scion 2 of gold ', which is very hard because of its
density and is darkly coloured, is called adamant.

Another has particles nearly like those of gold, but of
more than one grade ; in point of density in one way it
surpasses gold 3 and it is harder because it contains a small
portion of fine earth ; but it is lighter by reason of containing

c. large interstices. This formation is copper, one of the bright
and solid kinds of water. The portion of earth mixed with
it appears by itself on the surface when the two substances
begin to be separated again by the action of time ; it is
called verdigris.

It would be no intricate task to enumerate the other
substances of this kind, following the method of a probable
account. When a man, for the sake of recreation, lays
aside discourse about eternal things and gains an innocent
pleasure from the consideration of such plausible accounts

d. of becoming, he will add to his life a sober and sensible
pastime. So now we will give it rein and go on to set forth
the probabilities that come next in this subject as follows.

Gold is * unique in its kind \ This apparently means that it is
the only metal formed, solely or almost solely, of icosahedra of the
finest grade. Hence it will be very dense in texture, since the
smallest icosahedra will leave the smallest interstices between
them.

‘ Adamant ' seems to have been originally a poetic term for steel
or tempered iron.4 In Hesiod's Theogony 161, it is applied to the
metal created by Earth for the sickle used by Cronos to emasculate
Ouranos. This metal was grey {tzoXloq) and has no connection

1 At 68a, ‘ shining ’ (ariXgov) and ' bright ’ (Xafinpvv) are treated as names
of colours which can be mixed with yellow, etc.

2 The English ‘ scion * (like o£o?) means the eye, bud, or sprout, used in
grafting, and then * offshoot ’, * offspring ’ (in poetry) ; auri nodus (Pliny).

3 irvKvoTqTi Sc, rfj pb xpuaov. The ^ T2? A, omitted by other MSS.,
has been corrected by some editors to S’ ert. As the text stands, the fikv is
answered by S£ after tw at b, 8.

4 See P.-W., Enclyc. svv. Diamant, Stahl.

251

EXAMPLES OF METALS 58c-61c

with gold. Adamant is the material of the shaft of the Spindle of
Necessity in the myth of Er (Rep. 616c), symbolising, as Proclus
says (ad loc.), * the unalterable and unsubduable * (a&dfiaaxov).
Later the name was transferred to the diamond, because of its
extreme hardness. In the Statesman (303E) a simile drawn from the
process of refining gold mentions the removal of earth and stone,
leaving * mixed with the gold its precious kindred that can only be
removed by fire : copper and silver, and sometimes adamant \
Archer-Hind records the opinion of Professor W. J. Lewis that
Plato's adamant was probably haematite. But it is also conjectured
that the * dark colour ' (fieXavdiv) may be due to some misappre-
hension, and that adamant here is the diamond, the auri nodus
described by Pliny as a rare gem which was found in gold mines
and had been supposed to be formed only in gold. It may have
been imagined that the purest and most precious part of gold was
condensed in the diamond. Hence 4 adamant ’ was called ‘ the
flower of gold ' (adapaQ xov %qvoov to avdog, Pollux). It is quite
likely that Plato had never seen a diamond, and, from the little
he had heard of it, imagined it to be a metal.

The structure of copper is somewhat obscure. How can copper
be denser than gold, and yet contain larger interstices and so be
lighter ? The meaning may be that copper is denser ‘ in one way ’
(rfj judv), namely in so far as icosahedra of different sizes can be
more closely packed, the small ones helping to fill the interstices
between the larger. If this were the only difference between copper
and gold, copper would be nearer to the liquid condition and so
the softer, and it would also be the heavier. But it contains
(apparently as a foreign body, not part of its constitution) an
admixture of earth cubes. The cube being the body which is
hardest to dislodge, the presence of earth makes copper actually
harder than gold. Also there will be large interstices between the
cubes and the icosahedra, which cannot be packed very closely ;
hence copper is somewhat lighter than gold.

From this account of the metals, it does not appear that there
is any bar to the transmutation of any metal into any other. The
earth in copper is not, apparently, a constituent in its specific
structure, since it can work its way to the surface without the copper
ceasing to be copper. Thus all the metals consist solely of water
icosahedra, and free transformation between grades of icosahedra
should make any one convertible into any other. It would be
interesting to know whether the alchemists were encouraged by
this theory to attempt the transmutation of metals.

Solidification of fluids : Water, hail, ice, snow, hoar-frost. — We
now turn to the liquid type, embracing the fluids. The next

252

FREEZING OF FLUIDS

paragraph is parallel to the earlier account of the melting and
cooling of metals : it describes the solidification, or freezing, of
fluids, which are normally in the liquid state. Ordinary water is
taken as the obvious example. It is described as containing an
admixture of fire, not as part of its constitution but as a foreign
body which maintains the fluid in a liquid condition.

59D. Water that is mixed with fire and is fine and liquid (it is
called ' liquid ' because of its motion and its rolling course
over the ground x), and also soft because its bases give way,
being less stable than those of earth — water of this sort,
when it is separated off from fire and air and left by itself,
becomes more uniform, and at the same time is thrust

E. together upon itself by the action of the particles that are
passing out of it.1 2 Water so compacted, when it suffers this
change to the extreme degree above the earth, is hail ; when
on the ground, ice. Water that is less affected and still only
half congealed is called ‘ snow * above the earth, and when
congealed from dew on the ground is known as 4 hoarfrost \

Water, in its normal condition as a liquid, consists of com-
paratively small icosahedra of several different grades, this non-
uniformity making it mobile (58D). In the solid state, as ice, the
icosahedra are more uniform. The change to the solid state is due
to passing out of the fire particles, whose presence maintained it
in the liquid state. It is also said to be left free of air. Nothing
has been said of the presence of air in ordinary water. Possibly
there is a reference to what happens to a small quantity of fire
when surrounded and outnumbered by the larger particles of water.
We were told that the fire pyramids might be shattered and
reformed, first as air octahedra, and finally as icosahedra of water,
or they might escape to their kindred (57B). It may be meant here
that some of the fire particles are thus reformed as air before they
finally escape.3 However this may be, the water particles become
more uniform, on the same principle as in the cooling of metals
(59A), where the small icosahedra reformed as larger ones to fill
the spaces left by the withdrawal of fire, under pressure from the
thrust of the expanding air in the neighbourhood. The increase in

1 Understanding (with Lindau) that v ypov is connected with (mkp yrjs (or yr\v>
Tr.) pdov. But the text is suspicious and barely defensible.

2 The particles do not pass out into vacancy but (as before, 5 9 a) expand
the surrounding air, which thus exerts pressure on the liquid.

8 Tr.'s tentative suggestion (p. 419) that some of the water particles might
be broken up and reconstituted as air by the action of heat, thus forming
steam, would fit a heating but not a cooling process.

p.c. 253

JUICES 58c-61c

size and uniformity results in the immobility characteristic of the
solid state.1

Some varieties of the liquid type (juices). — Some illustrative
examples of the liquid type are now given. These are the juices
of plants, which are compounds of water particles of a large number
of grades (as contrasted with the small grades which alone occur
in ordinary water).

59E. Mixtures composed of most of the grades of water are given
the general name of juices, being filtered through the plants
that grow out of the earth ; while their several differences
60. are due to the variety of combinations.2 A great number
of the varieties they present are nameless ; but the four
kinds which contain fire are specially conspicuous 3 and
have received names. One is wine, which heats soul and
body together ; next, the oily kind, which is smooth and
divides the visual current and therefore appears bright
and shining to the view and glistens : 4 resin, castor oil, olive
oil itself, and all the rest that have the same property ; third,

b. the kind that relaxes the contracted pores in the region of
the mouth to their normal condition,5 producing sweetness
by this property, has received the general name of honey 6 ;
last, a kind that dissolves the flesh by burning, a frothy
substance distinct (?) from all the other juices, which is
called ‘ acrid juice \7

1 58E. Cf. 62B, where moisture is rendered immobile by compression
which causes the particles of different grades to reform themselves in more
uniform sizes.

8 Taking 8k (after Sid) as answering fib (after avfnrav). The two clauses
avfnrav fib . . . Xcyofievoi and 8id 8k .. . oyovres are parallel, and the main
sentence is resumed with rd fib aXXa kt A. The participles Acyofievoi and oyovres
are attracted to the gender of ^u/zoi.

8 That Sca^awjs means ‘ conspicuous * rather than ‘ transparent * seems
probable from the parallel at 67 a : the varieties of smell are so indistinct as
to be nameless ; the only clearly discernible (8uvj>avfj) distinction is between
pleasant and unpleasant.

4 Cf. 67E.

8 The correct explanation is due to A.-H. So Tr. The property ( 8vva.fus )
resides in the object as its power of acting on the sense-organ. Sweetness is
a quality of the honey produced by commerce with the sentient organ and
existing only while sensation is taking place (Theaet. 159D). Sweetness as a
quality of the sensation experienced is described at 66c, and attributed to
the same causes.

• The ‘honey ' found in flowers, rather than the stuff made by bees. The
word also covers sweet gums exuded by certain trees, e.g. kXaioficXt..

7 *k TTavraiv atj>opioQb tojv ^i//xd»v, ottos €7roovofido9r}. The meaning of o-nos here
is doubtful. Galen says that there are a very great number of onot, since the
word means the thick and sticky stuff that flows from an incision in any root

254

VARIETIES OF EARTH

Varieties and compounds of earth : stone and earthenware ; soda
and salt ; glass and wax. — The varieties of earth are illustrated by
several types of formation, (a) Stone and earthenware come from
earth which has lost the moisture it originally contained ; and,
when formed, they are insoluble by water. (6) There are less solid*
formations, like soda and salt, which remain soluble by water.
(c) Some compounds of earth and water can be dissolved only by
fire, not by water. Such are glass and wax.

6ob. Of the varieties of earth, that which has been strained
through water becomes a stony substance in the following
way. When the water mixed with it is broken up in the
mixing, it changes into the form of air 1 ; and when it has

c. become air, it rushes up towards its own region. But there
was no empty space surrounding it 2 ; accordingly it gives
a thrust to the neighbouring air. This air, being heavy,3
when it is thrust and poured round the mass of earth, squeezes
it hard and thrusts it together into the places from which
the new-made air has been rising. Earth thrust together by
air so as not to be soluble by water 4 forms stone, the finer
being the transparent kind consisting of equal and homo-
geneous particles, the baser of the opposite sort.

The kind that has been robbed of all moisture by the

d. rapid action of fire, a formation more brittle than the other,

or stalk ; but it is more specifically used of silphium juice (ottos KvprjvaiKOs) .
Theophrastus uses ottos for plant-juice, and specially for silphium and for fig
juice, used in curdling milk. In our passage it obviously means bitter juice,
and is probably (like /xcAi) the general name for a whole class.

afopiodev is difficult, (i) It seems manifestly untrue that a juice bitter
enough to bum the tongue is secreted from all the other juices — honey, for
instance. (2) It is not clear why this juice should be said to be marked off
or distinguished from among (eV) the whole number of juices. It may, how-
ever, be remembered that xu/ids means both ‘ juice * and ‘ taste ' or * flavour *
(65c). Does the phrase mean that these juices have a distinctive flavour,
markedly different from any other ?

1 Here the transformation of one body into another is involved, as we
suggested might be the case in the solidification of water (59D).

2 Reading ov ircpitfxcv avrov with Aa, A.-H. In the alternative vnepe Xx*v clvtqjv ,

* there was no empty space above them ’, the plural avrcov is hard to explain.

3 * Heavy * in the popular sense, since it exerts a downward pressure (as
well as in other directions) which reacts on the earth, as at 59A. This has
no connection with the natural drift of every body to its proper region.

4 aXvrcos vbari, ‘ insolubly by water * ; Ar., Meteor. 383 b, 10, rdp.kv aAvra,ra
8^ Atrnx vypd>) cf. vSan ov Xvrd, 6oe. So A.-H., comparing Aimo naAiv wf> *
vha tos (6od) . Precious stones and crystals, consisting of * equal and homo-
geneous ' (o/xaAdj here apparently means this, since * equal * must mean ‘ of
the same grade \ ‘ uniform ') particles, can hardly contain icosahedra of water
as well as earth cubes.

255

COMPOUNDS OF EARTH AND WATER 58c-61c

6od. is what we have named ‘ earthenware * ; 1 but sometimes,
when some moisture is left and the result is earth that is
fusible by fire, the dark-coloured stuff produced when it cools
is lava (?).2

There are, again, two kinds which are left in the same way
when a great amount of water has departed from the mixture ;
but the particles of earth in their composition are finer and
they have a saline taste. These become only half-solid and
are soluble again by water. The one, which cleanses from
grease and dirt, is soda 3 ; the other product, which blends

E. agreeably in the combinations of flavour, is salt, a substance
which, according to human convention, is pleasing to heaven.4

In contrast to substances like salt and soda, which are soluble
in water, there are others, such as glass and wax, which will not
dissolve in water, but can be melted into a liquid state by fire only.
These are compounds of earth and water, and the reason (given
in the third paragraph) why only fire can dissolve them is that they
are so closely compacted that water particles from outside cannot
gain admittance, whereas the smaller fire particles can. This
explanation is preceded by an account of the conditions under
which homogeneous masses consisting only of (i) earth, or (2) water,
or (3) air, can or cannot be dissolved.

6oe. The compounds of both (earth and water) which are soluble
by fire, but not by water, are compacted in that manner for
the following reason.

(1) Masses of earth are not dissolved by fire or air, because

1 The yrj Kepa.fj.is of Critias hid is the natural potter's clay, impervious to
water. But ‘ brittle ’ seems to show that Plato here means earthenware
or pottery. Ar., Meteor . 383a, 20, gives K^pa/xos onTcofievos as an example
of a soft, but not liquid, substance, that does not thicken but solidifies, when
the moisture leaves it.

8 Meteor. 3836, 9, mentions a group of substances solidified by dry heat,
namely (1) Kepapos and * some kinds of stone (Xldiov) that are formed out of
earth burnt up by fire, such as millstones * ( olov ol pvXlaC) ; these are insoluble
by liquid ; (2) natron (virpov) and salt, which are soluble by liquid. If

virpov (FY), the variant for AtVpov (A), is read in the next paragraph below
(d, 8), this group corresponds to Plato's. This suggests that we should read
At Oos <fivXCas>, which is mentioned as a specially hard kind of stone, Hipp.
Maj. 392 d. In Aristotle ‘ millstone ’ apparently means lava. He says it
can be melted (by heat) and become fluid, and that when the * fluid mass
begins to solidify (by cooling) it is black, and it comes to be like lime (rtVavos)’.
Another possibility is Xl$os <Xinapatos> ; see A.-H. on our passage.

8 Xlrpov A, virpov FY.

4 Reading tear av$pd>iru»v vopjov with Bernadakis, on Plut., Qu. Conv. 984F,
nXdru>vos Si rwv dXcov ocojxa Kara vopov avdpdoncov 6eo(f>iX4oraTOV etvai <f>aoKOvros .
(Cf. Tr., p. 426.)

256

COMPOUNDS OF EARTH AND WATER

6oe. their particles are smaller than the interstices in the texture
of earth, so that, having plenty of room to pass through
without forcing their way, they do not loosen the earth but
leave it undissolved ; whereas the particles of water, being
larger, make their passage through by force and so loosen
the earth and dissolve it. Earth, then, is dissolved in
61. this way by water only, when it is not forcibly compressed ;
but if it is so compressed only fire can dissolve it, for no
entrance is left for anything but fire. (2) Water, again,
when most forcibly compressed is dispersed by fire only;
though when the consistency is weaker, both fire and air
disperse it, air by its interstices, fire actually breaking it
down into its triangles ; while (3) air forcibly compressed
cannot be resolved by anything save into its elements, and
when not so compressed, is dissolved only by fire.

The upshot of this parenthesis on the dissolving of earth, water,
and air, in so far as it concerns the class of substances under con-
sideration (such as glass and wax), which are compounds of earth
and water, is as follows. It has to be explained why these com-
pounds can be dissolved by fire, but not by water. Both the earth
and the water contained in them are highly compressed, and we
have seen that in that state of compression earth and water alike
yield no entrance to the larger bodies ; only fire is small enough
to find a way in between the particles. Hence water from butside
can only flow harmlessly over the surface of glass or wax, while
fire can enter the interstices between the water particles in the
compound and melt it, in the same way that water can dissolve
earth that is not too closely packed.

61. So in these bodies compounded of earth and water, so long
b. as water occupies the interstices of the earth in such a body,
though these may be forcibly compressed, the particles of
water assailing it from outside can find no entrance, so that,
flowing round the whole mass, they leave it undissolved ;
whereas the particles of fire make their way into the interstices
between the water particles and, acting upon them — fire upon
water — in the same way that water acts upon earth,1 are

1 Reading rovro nvp vScupwith Cook- Wilson and Tr., as symmetry demands.
aepa can be explained as a dittography of the anep- which follows, displacing
vhcop. Rivaud retains depa at the cost of mistranslation : ' elles agissent sur
Veau comme Veau sur la terre ou le feu sur Vair' dnepya^adai with double
accus. meaning ‘to do something to something’ occurs at Charm . 173 a.
Water acts on loosely compacted earth by forcing its way through and so
driving apart the earth cubes (6oe, 7).

257

TACTILE QUALITIES 61c-64a

6ib. the only agents that can cause the compound body to be
dissolved and set flowing. Of these compounds, some
contain less water than earth, namely all kinds of glass
c. and any varieties of stone that are called fusible ; others
contain more water, namely all the substances with a con-
sistency like that of wax or incense.

61C-64A. Tactile qualities , as they appear to sensation and perception
Starting from space, the ultimate factor reached in the analysis
of the bodily, Plato has now built up the primary bodies, illustrated
the possibilities of transformation within or between their various
grades, and finally reached the recognisable and nameable compound
substances found in Nature. A few of these have been described
in some detail, so as to illustrate the sort of way in which the
theory could explain their observed properties, although their
structure is beyond the range of observation and the whole amounts
to no more than a likely account.

Thus, from the fresh starting-point of the second Part, we have
returned, as it were from below, to the point reached from above
at the end of the first Part — the senses and their external objects.
So far these objects have been considered as they are supposed to
exist in their own right, independently of the effects which they
produce in commerce with sentient organs. But, as Plato now
remarks, since our knowledge of their existence is due entirely to
sensation and perception, their properties could not be mentioned
save in terms implying our perception and so anticipating the
account, which has not yet been given, of the organs of sense and
the sentient part of the soul. The next section deals with certain
qualities common to all external bodies and perceived by the sense
of touch, which is diffused over all the fleshy parts of the living
organism : hot and cold, hard and soft, heavy and light, smooth
and rough. Some attempt is made to connect the character of
our sensations with the supposed structure of the external objects.

61c. We have now, perhaps, sufficiently illustrated the varieties
due to diversity of shapes, combinations, and transformations
of one body into another. Next we must try to make clear
how it is that they come to have their qualities.

First, then, our account at every point must assume the
existence of sensation ; but we have not yet described the
formation of flesh and all that belongs to flesh, or the mortal
part of soul.1 Yet no adequate account can be given of

1 It has been stated (42 a) that the implanting of the immortal part in a
body entails, of necessity, the faculty of * sensation (o laOrjais) arising from
violent affections ', pleasure and pain, desire and passion. But the only

258

HOT AND COLD

6id. these apart from all those qualities that are connected with
sensation, nor yet of the latter apart from the former ; and
to treat of both together is hardly possible. We must, then,
first assume one side, and afterwards turn back to examine
what we have assumed. So, in order that our account may
proceed from the kinds of body to their qualities, let us take
for granted what is involved in the existence of body and
soul.1

‘ Qualities (affections) connected with sensation ’ (ra
Saa aloOrjuxa) are distinguished from those properties which bodies
are supposed to possess in the absence of any sentient being, such
as the shapes of the microscopic particles, which are never perceived.
We know from the Theaetetus that external objects cannot properly
be said to be white, or hot, or sweet in themselves. Before they
come within range of some sentient organ they possess only * the
power of acting or being acted upon ', and the same is true of the
organ itself. Only when organ and object are in commerce with
one another is the organ affected in such a way that (if the change
penetrates through the body and reaches the soul) we have the
sensation we call ‘ seeing white 1 or ‘ feeling hot \ And it is only
while this situation endures that the object becomes white or hot
for the percipient. Thus the ‘ affection ' of the organ and the
‘ affection * of the object occur (to use Plato's phrase) as 4 a pair
of twins ', born of the marriage between the two. It is with such
affections that the present section is concerned, and, among them,
only with those belonging to the generally diffused sense of touch.
It may be noted that here, where we are approaching this subject
as it were from below, we proceed from the lowest of the senses,
touch, through taste and smell, to the highest, hearing and sight.

6id. First, then, let us see how it is that we call fire ' hot \ We
may study this question by observing the rending and cutting
effect of fire upon our bodies. We are all aware that the
e. sensation is a piercing one ; and we may infer the fineness
of the edges, the sharpness of the angles, the smallness of the
particles, and the swiftness of the movement, all of which
properties make fire energetic and trenchant, cleaving and
piercing whatever it encounters. When we recall the forma-
62, tion of its figure we see that this substance, more than any

senses so far dealt with in any detail were sight and hearing (45B ff.), not
touch, and nothing has yet been said about the differences of quality as
perceived in colours and sounds.

1 The mortal parts of the soul and the main bodily organs are reserved for
the third part of the discourse, from 69A onwards.

259

HOT AND COLD. HARD AND SOFT 61c-64a

62. other, penetrates the body and divides it minutely and
naturally gives the affection we call ' hot 1 its quality and
its name.1

The opposite quality is obvious enough, but it shall not
go without an explanation. The particles of fluids in the
neighbourhood of the body, when they enter it, thrust out
the particles smaller than themselves,2 and not being able
to insert themselves into their places they compress the
moisture in us and solidify it by reducing what was not

b. uniform and was therefore in motion to immobility, resulting
from uniformity and compression. But a thing that is
unnaturally contracted struggles, pushing itself apart again
into its normal state. This struggling and shaking is called
trembling and shivering ; and the name ‘ cold ' is given to
this affection as a whole and to the agent producing it.

' Hard ' is applied to anything to which our flesh yields,
' soft \ to anything that yields to flesh ; and hard and soft
things are also so called with reference to one another. A
thing is yielding when it has a small base ; the figure com-

c. posed of square faces, having a firm standing, is most stub-
born ; so too is anything that is specially resistant because
it is contracted to the greatest density.

It is probable that Plato is here improving on Democritus, whose
account of sensations presents parallel attempts to connect the
character of a sensation with the shapes of the atoms in the body
which yields it.3 This line of explanation was pursued further by
the later atomists of ancient and modem times. Meyerson 4 quotes
the following from Lemery ( Cours de Chymie , 1675) :

* Comme on ne peut pas mieux expliquer la nature d’une chose
aussi cach6e que Test celle d’un sel, qu’en attribuant aux parties
qui le composent des figures qui correspondent & tous les effets
qu'il produit, je dirai que Tacidite d'une liqueur consiste dans
des parties de sel pointues, lesquelles sont en agitation ; et je ne

1 As if Oepfios were Keppos* But cf. Crat. 41 2D ff. hUaiov = 8ia-iov
(raxiaroy, Ae7rroTarov) = irvp or to deppov.

2 I take these smaller particles to be fire and air (not a smaller grade of
water-particles). Cf. the descriptions of cooling by loss of fire-particles (59A),
and of freezing by isolation of water-particles from fire and air and consequent
increase of uniformity (59D, e). There seems to be no reason why larger
water-particles from outside should expel smaller water-particles already
present in the body ; and we do not in fact sweat when we are getting cold.
The moisture in us is not expelled but compressed.

* Theophr., de sens. 60 ff., compares and contrasts Democritus* treatment
with Plato’s.

* De V Explication dans la science i, 285.

260

HOT AND COLD

crois pas que Ton me conteste que Tacide n’ait des pointes,
puisque toutes les experiences le montrent ; il ne faut que le
gouter pour tomber dans ce sentiment : car il fait des picote-
ments sur la langue semblables ou fort approchants de ceux que
Ton recevrait de quelque mati&re tailtee en pointes tr&s fines \ etc.

Theophrastus, however, emphasises, as a point of difference
between Democritus and Plato, that Democritus reduced all sensa
(aladrjra) to ' affections of the sense which undergoes alteration \
whereas Plato did not deprive them of their independent reality
(gwaig, cf. 61, xad s at5ra noccov rate ovo(ollq). Plato does, in fact,
say in the Theaetetus that the physical object which causes my
sensation of whiteness (hotness, etc.), although it is not white
when no one is perceiving it, is ' saturated with whiteness ' when
it is perceived, and ' becomes a white thing ' (156E). He thus
speaks as if the object acquired, for so long as it is perceived, a
quality which it does not possess at other times. The particles of
fire have sharp points and fine edges at all times. These character-
istics, consequently, cannot constitute its hotness ; and it is hard
to see how the hotness can have ‘ independent reality ', unless this
means that it is an object of which I am aware in perception rather
than a change that occurs in the sense organ or a quality of my
sensation.1 As we have seen, however, Plato differs from Demo-

1 Tr. (p. 430 ff.) holds that Plato is speaking of perceptible qualities that
are not dependent on the mind of a percipient. Neither our bodies nor our
minds play any part in making them. The objective fact of which we are
directly aware in the sensation itself is * that our flesh is being lacerated or
pierced by the “ hot ” body — as wholly “ objective ” a process as the cutting
of a loaf by a knife ’ . * The ndOrjfia which we call dcpfiov is thus as strictly a 7 rados

of the particles of fire as the penetrating of a loaf is a 7 rados of a bread-knife.
In both cases, to explain fully the ndOTj^a of the knife or of the fire, we have
to take into account what it does to a second body. The second body is not
necessarily my own. The fire divides a log of wood which it sets on fire
exactly in the same way and for the same reason that it divides my flesh.
Only it is due to the fact that I have a body and that my sensations are
aroused in connexion with it that heat is a directly “ sensed ” object. If I
had no body, or none which the tetrahedra of fire could penetrate, fire would
still be deppov, but its heat would no more be directly revealed to me by sense
than the distinctive character of a magnetized iron bar is. It would be in
the coals, but it would be something inferred, not felt/

This account seems to be incompatible with the Theaetetus, which asserts
that the sense-organ does play a part in making the hotness we perceive,
and that fire is not hot save when perceived. What resides at other times
in the coals is not hotness, but the power of producing sensation and hotness
in conjunction with the organ. When the fire pierces and lacerates the
insensitive log there is, strictly, no hotness in the fire or in the wood.

I am assuming that the theory of sensation in Theaetetus 155D ff. is Plato's
own (see Plato's Theory of Knowledge, 49) ; and Tr. admits that ‘ from Plato’s

261

HEAVY AND LIGHT

61c-64a

critus in that his particles are not impenetrably solid lumps, but
contain ‘ motions (changes) and powers \ These may be called
independently existing qualities, which can cause in our souls
sensations such as feeling hot.

Hard and soft seem to have less claim than hot and cold to be
qualities distinct from the characteristics possessed by bodies at
all times, whether perceived or not. The next pair, heavy and
light, have as little.1 These two pairs of opposites are the two
which Democritus connected with the inherent properties of his
atoms and did not treat as mere ‘ affections of the sense \a Plato
himself remarks that bodies are called hard or soft * with reference
to one another *, apart from any sentient organ.

62c. ' Heavy ' and ' light ’ may be most clearly explained by
examining them together with the expressions ‘ above * and
* below \ It is entirely wrong to suppose that there are by
nature two opposite regions dividing the universe between
them, one ‘ below ', towards which all things sink that have
bodily bulk, the other ' above \ towards which everything
is reluctant to rise. For since the whole heaven is spherical

D. in shape, all the points which are extreme in virtue of being
equally distant from the centre, must be extremities in just
the same manner; while the centre, being distant by the
same measure from all the extremes, must be regarded as
at the point 4 opposite ’ to them all. Such being the nature
of the ordered world, which of the points mentioned could
one call either 1 above ' or ‘ below ' without being justly
censured for using a quite unsuitable term ? The central
region in it does not deserve to be described as being, in its
nature, either above or below, but simply at the centre ;
while the circumference is not, of course, central, nor is
there any difference, distinguishing one part of it from
another with reference to the centre, which does not belong
equally to some part on the opposite side.3

own point of view, the theory would be perfectly acceptable as an account
of “ pure" sensation* (Plato, the Man and His Work, 1926, p. 330). But,
on Tr.*s peculiar theory, the doctrine here belongs to Timaeus and may not
be acceptable to Plato.

1 Timaeus Locrus (iooe) separates this pair from the others, remarking
that, ‘ though they are distinguished by touch, reason defines them by the
inclination towards, or away from, the centre or * by their tendency to
move towards their own region * (ponq, nori rdv x<*>pw)-

* Theophr., de sens. 61-62, 68.

8 Taking rj with fidXXov. No part has the property of * being above (or
below) the centre *, or has any better right to that description than a point
on the opposite side. This is the counterpart of the statement above, that

262

HEAVY AND LIGHT

62D. When a thing 1 is uniform in every direction, what pair
of contrary terms can be applied to it and in what sense
could they be properly used ? If we further suppose that
there is a solid body poised at the centre of it all, this body
63. will not move towards any of the points on the extremity,
because in every direction they are all alike ; rather, if a
man were actually to walk round and round that body, he
would repeatedly stand at his own antipodes and call the
same point on its surface ‘ above ' and * below \a For the
whole being spherical, as we said just now, there is no sense
in speaking of one region as above, another below.

As to the source of these terms and the things to which
they really apply and which have occasioned our habit of
using the words to describe a division of the universe as a

b. whole, we may arrive at an agreement, if we make the
following supposition. Imagine a man in that region of the
universe which is specially allotted to fire, taking his stand
on the main mass towards which fire moves, and suppose it
possible for him to detach portions of fire and weigh them
in the scales of a balance. When he lifts the beam and

c. forcibly drags the fire into the alien air, clearly he will get
the smaller portion to yield to force more readily than the
greater ; for when two masses at once are raised aloft by
the same power, the lesser must follow the constraint more
readily than the greater, which will make more resistance ;
and so the large mass will be said to be ‘ heavy ' and to tend
‘ downwards ', the small to be * light ' and to tend * upwards \
Now this is just what we ought to detect ourselves doing

the centre cannot be called ‘ above ’ the ‘ lower ' hemisphere or * below * the
‘ upper * hemisphere. The next sentence asks to what these contrasted
terms, above and below, can be applied, if neither the centre nor any part
of the circumference exhibits any corresponding difference of nature.

1 This paragraph is in general terms, referring to any spherical figure, at
the centre of which is a solid body. It applies to the actual universe, because
this has a solid body at its centre, viz. the Earth.

2 The connection between the two parts of this sentence becomes clear if
we take the first part to mean that there is no reason why the central body
should fall down in any direction, because there is no ‘ down ’ for it to fall
towards. On the contrary, the supposed traveller will be using ‘ above ' and
‘ below ’ with reference to every direction in succession, since at any moment
he will think he is ' on the top ’ of the body which is ‘ beneath him ’. Neither
word, accordingly, stands for any inherent difference between the parts of
the central body or of the universe as a whole. Paraphrasing this passage,
Aristotle (de caelo, 308 a, 20) assumes as a matter of course that the body
round which the traveller walks is the earth, which actually occupies the
centre of Plato’s world.

263

HEAVY AND LIGHT

61c-64a

63c. here in our own region. Standing on the Earth, when we
are trying to distinguish 1 between earthy substances or
sometimes pure earth, we are dragging the two things 2
into the alien air by violence and against their nature ; both

d. cling to their own kind, but the smaller yields more readily
to our constraint than the larger and follows it more quickly
into the alien element. Accordingly we have come to call
it 4 light * and the region into which we force it 4 above ' ;
when the thing behaves in the opposite way, we speak of
* heavy ' and * below \ Consequently, the relation of these
things to one another must vary, because the main masses
of the kinds occupy regions opposite to one another : what
is * light ' or * heavy ' or 4 above 1 or 4 below ' in one region
will all be found to become, or be, contrary to what is 4 light '

e. or 4 heavy ' or 4 above ' or 4 below ' in the opposite region,
or to be inclined at an angle, with every possible difference
of direction.3 The one thing to be observed in all cases,
however, is that it is the travelling of each kind towards its
kindred that makes the moving thing 4 heavy ' and the
region to which it moves 4 below ', while the contrary names
are given to their opposites. So much for the explanation
of these affections.

As for the qualities 4 smooth ' and 4 rough \ anyone, I
suppose, could see how they are to be explained. Roughness
is due to a combination of hardness and unevenness, smooth-
64. ness to evenness combined with closeness of texture.

Plato's account of 4 heaviness ' and 4 lightness ' is based on the
axiomatic principle, already many times invoked, that bodies of
like nature have a natural tendency to come together, fire to fire,
earth to earth, and so on. He also assumes that the strength of
this tendency varies with the size of the mass of fire (etc.) in
question ; the smaller of two similar masses makes the less resistance
to the violence which would force it away from its kind. Given

Fraccaroli and Tr. translate ‘ weigh ’, but produce no
proof that the middle laraadai ever has this sense. At Rep. 36E, the word
means ‘ set in contrast * : SLaarrjawfjicda rov re hiKOxora-rov koX tov dSiKWTarov
. . . rls odv 17 81 acrraois • Here I take BuordfMevoL to mean ' trying to dis-
tinguish ’ which of two lumps of an earthy substance is the heavier by com-
paring or contrasting their behaviour when weighed.

* dfnf>oT€pa. The two portions weighed against one another in the hands or
in the two scales of a balance.

8 Thus, Earth being at the centre and fire all round the circumference, so
that * the main masses occupy opposite regions ’, the line along which a stone
falls to earth or fire rises will be in a different direction for every point on
the Earth’s surface.

26a

HEAVY AND LIGHT

these objective properties of all bodies, he can explain why one mass
feels heavier (or lighter) than another, and how it will depend on
the situation of the observer whether it feels lighter or heavier.

He begins by dismissing the popular notion that the universe is
divided into two regions, * above ' and ‘ below ’ or * up ’ and * down \
and that all bodies move of themselves downwards, and can only
be made to move upwards by force. For this he substitutes his
own picture of the finite spherical universe (so ordered by Reason),
where the opposition is between the centre and the circumference.
All points on the circumference are equally * opposite to ' the
centre, and neither the centre nor any part of the circumference
can properly be described as * above ' or ‘ below \ How then, he
asks, have we come to use these terms as we do ?

His answer involves the further doctrine, previously stated, that
the main masses of the four primary bodies are situated in regions
proper to them. We have learnt that this is a consequence of the
natural tendency of like towards like, operating within the finite
spherical shape imposed by Reason on the chaos of motions in the
Recipient (58A-C). It has all through been implied, as an obvious
fact, that in the ordered world the four bodies are arranged, not
merely like with like, but in a definite order : fire round the circum-
ference (where it is the chief constituent of the stars’ bodies), next
the spheres of air and water, and earth at the centre. It seems to
me impossible to doubt this ; and it follows that the Earth in
Plato’s system must be (as Aristotle says) ‘ situated at the centre ’.
I cannot conceive that the proper region of the main masses of
earth and water could be the point occupied at any given moment
by a planetary Earth revolving at some distance from the centre ;
while the rest of the central region would be occupied presumably
by air ; for, as we have seen (pp. 124 if.), there is no hint of any
Central Fire. If Plato had meant this, he could not have failed to
state clearly a view so foreign to his readers’ natural assumptions.
If we ask why the four bodies are arranged in this order rather than
in any other, the answer may perhaps be found in the statement
(56B) that, of the three bodies formed of the same elementary
triangle, fire is the most mobile and ' the lightest, as being composed
of the smallest number of similar parts ’, air stands next, and then
water. Obviously, the mere principle that like things come together
will not by itself account for the arrangement actually observed.
Plato may intend to account for it by supposing that, since the
chaotic motions of the primary bodies are confined within the
circular revolution due to the World-Soul, the more nimble and
mobile bodies would tend to be thrust outwards, nearer to the
surface, i.e. the circumference. If so, the actual arrangement

265

PLEASURE AND PAIN 64a-65b

could be connected with their intrinsic properties and structure.
But this point is left in some obscurity.

This is not the same thing as to say that fire is ‘ absolutely
light ' or earth 1 absolutely heavy \ Moreover, if the transition
from chaos to cosmos never actually occurred and the four main
masses have always occupied their present concentric spheres, the
behaviour of smaller masses can be accounted for simply by the
overpowering attraction exercised by the main mass in the region
it actually occupies. The smaller mass will move towards the
larger, not vice versa, and any part of the main mass will resist
an attempt to tear it away into an alien region. We are here
concerned with sensible qualities. The reason why a stone feels
heavy lies in this resistance. Fire would feel heavy to a man
standing on the inner surface of the main mass of fire and trying
to lift a portion of fire into the air. In this way we may think of
* heaviness * as analogous to colour. A body has strictly no colour
save when some eye is seeing it ; there is in the body itself only
the * power * to give rise to a perception of colour in co-operation
with a sentient organ. Similarly, a body has intrinsically only the
tendency to move towards its like ; by calling it more or less
4 heavy 1 we may mean only the consequent resistance that we
experience when we contribute, on our side, the effort that is
resisted. In this sense, ' heaviness ' is the name of an ‘ affection '
that we feel, rather than of any property independently existing
in the bodies outside.

64A-65B. Pleasure and Pain

So far, the only sensible qualities considered are those which are
perceived by the sense of touch, diffused all over the fleshy parts
of the body. The next paragraph deals with the pleasurable or
painful character of the affections produced in the subject. We
are still concerned with ‘ common affections of the body as a whole \
There are, in the first place, the motions set up in the particles
composing various organs of the body. When these motions
penetrate to the consciousness, sensation follows in the soul ; but
they may die away and be lost before the consciousness is
reached. Finally, sensation may or may not be attended by
pleasure or pain.

64A. Concerning the affections common to the body as a whole
the most important point that remains to be considered is
the explanation of the element of pleasantness or painfulness
in those which we have just discussed ; and further all those
affections which, having attained to sensation through the

266

PLEASURE AND PAIN

64A. organs of the body, may be also accompanied by inherent
pains or pleasures.1

Now in seeking the explanation of any affection, whether
perceptible or imperceptible, we must begin 2 by recalling
the distinction drawn earlier between what is mobile in

B,. structure and what is immobile ; all the explanations we
are bent upon discovering are to be sought along this line.
When something that is naturally mobile is invaded by even
a slight affection, it spreads it all round, one particle passing
on the same effect to another, until they reach the conscious-
ness and report the quality of the agent. The immobile,
on the other hand, being too stable to spread the motion
round, merely suffers the affection without setting any of

c. its neighbours in motion ; accordingly, since the particles
do not pass it on one to another, the original affection remains
in them incapable of transmission to the living creature as
a whole and leaves the subject without sensation. This is
the case with bone and hair and all the other parts in our
bodies that are composed chiefly of earth ; whereas the
previously mentioned conditions apply to sight and hearing
above all, because in them fire and air play the largest part.

The nature of pleasure and pain, then, must be conceived

d. as follows. An affection which violently disturbs the normal
state, if it happens all of a sudden, is painful, while the
sudden restoration of the normal state is pleasant ; these
are perceptible, whereas a gentle and gradual change of
either sort is imperceptible.

Any process, however, that takes place with great facility
yields perceptions 3 in the highest degree, but is not attended
by pain or pleasure. Such are the affections that occur in
the visual ray itself, which was, in fact, described earlier as
a body formed in the daylight in intimate connection with
our own.4 No pain is set up by cuts or bums in this ray

1 In this sentence the first part refers to the ‘ affections ' above discussed,
viz. qualities of objects as perceived, and what is meant by calling these
pleasant or painful (capable of causing pleasure or pain to a sentient being).
The second half refers to ‘ affections ’ occurring within the body and trans-
mitted through the organs to the soul, where they * acquire ’ sensation with
(or without) pleasure or pain.

* c5 8e is explained by avapuiiv^oKOiievot : * in the following way, namely
by recalling . . Cf. 61 d, c58e oKonoCvres . . . €wot)84vt€s.

8 Literally * is perceptible \ but the perception in the following instance
of vision is perception of colour, not of the disturbance, which yields no
sensation at all, either pleasant or painful.

4 avfuf> vts rjficov. At 45D, crvfi<f>vks tlo aipi meant ‘ coalescing with the air \
The genitive rjp&v is supported by the analogy of ovyyenfc and avy^vros (A.-H.).

267

PLEASURE AND PAIN

64A-6|g

64D. or by anything else that is done to it, nor yet pleasure whi^
E. it returns to its former condition, although there are intern
and very distinct perceptions, according as it is acted upcy
and itself meets and touches any object ; for no violen<n
whatsoever is involved when the ray is severed and comt^
together again.1 On the other hand, organs consisting <e
larger particles, which yield to the agent reluctantly
pass on the motions to the whole, have pleasures and ;
pains while they are being ousted from their normal state
65. pleasures while this is being restored. Those in which the
departure from the normal state 2 or depletion is gradual,
while the replenishment is sudden and on a large scale, are
sensible of the replenishment, but not of the depletion, and
so afford to the mortal part of the soul 3 * * * * 8 intense pleasures,
but no pain. This is plain in the case of sweet smells.
Where the disturbance of the normal state is sudden, and
the restoration gradual and difficult, the opposite results are
b. produced ; as may be observed in the case of cuts or bums
in the body.

Plato here connects his own doctrine of bodily pleasures and
pains, most fully set forth in the Philebus, with his theory of the
particles, whose shapes make them comparatively easy or difficult
to dislodge. Sensation of any kind occurs only in the soul, as a
result of changes or movements transmitted through the bodily
organs from the objects outside. In perception, the active quality
(dvva/Mg) of the object is thus finally ‘ reported ' to the conscious-
ness : we see a colour, hear a sound, and so on. The first point
is that the organs and external media in the case of sight and
hearing consist of specially mobile particles (fire and air), and
consequently the qualities are reported with exceptional intensity

1 I understand (with Tr.) Sta/cpicns and avyKpims to mean the dislocation
of particles by cuts, burns, etc., and their return to their normal condition.
This is not felt by us because it is so easily effected that no ‘ violence ' is
required on the part of the agent.

2 airoxtofrfo€is eavrcov * departures from themselves This phrase is simply

a variant for the airaMorpiovcdai of the next sentence. 4avra>v would be

superfluous if dirox&prjcns meant ‘ wasting \ k4vcools is such wasting as occurs,

for example, in hunger. Neither word means here the evacuation of un-

assimilated food, which follows on eating and is not associated with any

possible pain of want.

8 The addition of the lower faculties (by implication 1 mortal ') to the
* immortal principle ' has been mentioned at 42A. The ‘ mortal part of the
soul ' is mentioned where that passage is recapitulated at 69c, and indeed
the expression has already been used at 61 c. Tr.'s note here is therefore
irrelevant.

268

TASTES

and clearness, little being lost by friction on the way. The most
earthy parts of the body, such as bones and hair, absorb the shock,
and the motion dies away in them before it reaches the soul.
Hence no sensation or perception results.

. Pleasure or pain may or may not attend on sensation or percep-
tion, when it does occur. Pain is due to *a sudden and violent
disturbance of the normal state. The nature of the disturbance is
not specified, but it seems to be implied that it is a dislocation, and
possibly a transformation, of the particles composing the organ.
Pleasure is due to the sudden restoration. If either process is
sufficiently gentle and gradual, no sensation occurs and consequently
neither pleasure nor pain. In the Philebus the theory provides the
basis for the distinction between the * pure ' pleasures and the
mixed, namely those which are preceded or accompanied by pains
of want. The pleasures of smell, for example, are pure. As
Archer-Hind remarks, Plato ‘ seems to regard sweet odours as the
natural nutriment of the nostrils, which suffer waste when those
are absent ; but the depletion is so imperceptible that it is only
by a sudden restoration of the natural state that we become conscious
that there has been any lack \

An apparent exception to the rule that violent disturbances
cause pain is offered by the visual ray, regarded as an extension of
the organ of sight. When we look at a candle-flame or pass a knife
before our eyes, why do we not feel pain from the burn or the cut
inflicted on the ray ? This has to be explained by the extreme
fineness and mobility of the fire particles composing the ray.
These, it seems, yield so readily that nj> ‘ violence ’ is called for on
the part of the disturbing agent. So tlie ray yields no pleasant or
painful sensation, although the perceptions of its proper objects
are exceptionally intense and distinct.

65B-66C. Tastes

From the general account of tactual sensibility and of pleasure
and pain we pass to sensations transmitted through special sense-
organs : tastes, smells, sounds, colours. In each of these classes
we distinguish a number of main groups by names such as (in the
case of tastes) * bitter ', ‘ pungent \ * sour \ ‘ sweet \ These
names roughly indicate the quality of the sensations we actually
experience. The theory now attempts to connect the felt quality
of a given class of sensations with the physical process supposed to
occur in the sense-organ, which is itself to be explained by the
inherent qualities of the external objects, connected with their
structure as described earlier. *

Knowing nothing of the nerves, Plato supposes that the tongue

P.c. 269 T

TASTES

65b-66c

possesses diminutive passages (' veins '). These are said to extend
to the heart ; but since nothing is said about their containing
blood, they may be not blood-vessels, but very fine tubes conveying
the liquid or liquefied substances we taste into the veins proper.
The bulk of the nourishment we take travels down the gullet into
the belly and is there digested and passed on into the blood-stream,
which then feeds all parts of the body. But very small samples of
it make their way directly into the blood-stream through these
fine tubes, in which they are * tested ' by the tongue and the sense
of taste, so that we may be warned against swallowing unwholesome
substances. Plato describes only the behaviour of various sub-
stances in the tubes, which gives rise to sensations of sourness,
pungency, etc., as soon as it is reported to the central seat of
sensation. Presumably the disturbances are transmitted through
the flesh of the tongue in the same way as in the case of touch.
It is not implied that the message has to pass through the heart
to reach the brain.

65B. Some account has now been given of the common affections
of the body as a whole and of the names bestowed on the
agents that produce them ; we have next to explain, if we
can, the affections that occur in special organs of our bodies
and, on the other side, how they are caused by the agents
concerned.

c. First, then, we must make clear to the best of our power
what we omitted earlier in speaking of flavours,1 namely the
affections peculiar to the tongue. These, like most of the
others indeed, appear to be due to contractions and dilations
of some sort ; and further they have more to do than any
of the rest with degrees of roughness and smoothness. When
earth particles,2 making their way in at the small veins
which serve the tongue as a sort of testing-instrument and
extend to the heart, come into contact with the moist and

d. soft flesh, as they are melted down they contract and dry up

means (1) juice, (2) flavour (residing in a juice), (3) taste (as a
sensation). Some references were made to the characteristic flavours of the
juices (60 a, b) and of the varieties of earth compounds (6oe) ; but nothing
was said about the corresponding processes set up in the tongue.

2 Taking yrjiva. pepr) as subject (with A.-H., Tr., Fr.), not with Kararq Koneva
(Rivaud, 4 et y dissolvent les parties terreuses ') which is passive. The reference
seems to be to compounds of earth, loosely enough compacted to be soluble
by water (6oe). The moisture from the flesh melts them down into a state
liquid enough for flavour to be perceptible ; for it is probable that (as A.-H.
says) Plato holds with Aristotle (de anitn. 422 a, 17) that all taste is produced
by substances in a liquid state, whether liquefied before or after entering the
mouth.

270

TASTES

65D. the veins. If comparatively rough, they are felt as ' astrin-
gent ’ ; if their roughening effect is slighter, as * harsh \
Substances which rinse the small veins and cleanse the
whole region of the tongue are called ‘ acrid if they produce
this effect in excess and attack the substance of the tongue
to the point of dissolving some part of it ; such is the
E. property of soda. Those which are less powerful than soda
and rinse the tongue to a moderate degree are saline without
acrid roughness and rather produce an agreeable sensation.

Others, which absorb the warmth of the mouth and are
softened by it, becoming fiery 1 and in their turn scorching
that which heated them, mount upwards by virtue of their
lightness to the senses in the head, cleaving whatever they
66. encounter. On account of these properties all such sub-
stances are called * pungent \

Again, there are the particles 2 of substances reduced to
a fine texture by decomposition before they make their way
into the narrow veins — particles that are duly proportioned
both to the earthy and to the airy particles which the veins
contain, with the result that they set these in motion and
cause them to be churned round one another, and, as they
are being churned, to form an enclosure and, as particles of
one sort find their way inside particles of a different sort,
to produce hollow films stretched round those that pass into
the inside.3 Thus, when a hollow film of moisture, earthy

1 There is no inconsistency, if the substances in question (which are not

named) contain water or consist mainly of water, like the juices at 59E.
The water particles can be transformed into fire. It has not (as Tr. alleges,
p. 466) ' been assumed all along that things get their flavours from the earthy
particles they contain (yrpva ficpq, 65D, 2) \ A.-H. instances the effect of

mustard.

2 Reading ra 8k av rd>v : ru>v 8* avrdtv libri. (Cf. oaa p,kv . . . ra 8% . . .
ra 8k, beginning the three previous sentences.) But the neuter plural required
by e^ovra might be found in ro rtov npoXeX = ra npoXeX. (So Tr.) Unless the
grammar is extremely irregular, *cu before to is ivovoiv must mean 4 both \
The requirement seems to be that the entering particles of moisture shall
have been reduced by decomposition to a grade fine enough to permit them
to fill the interstices between both the earth cubes and the air octahedra in
the passages. The nominative is left in suspense.

3 The construction and meaning are here uncertain. This part of the
sentence seems to describe the formation of a bubble by a stirring movement,
producing a globular film of moisture enclosing air. nepiTrlTTreiv can mean
‘ surround *, or * encounter ' (‘ jostle against one another \ A.-H.), but hardly

* change their positions \ The notion of jostling seems superfluous. The
preceding nepi aXXrjXa and the following compounds of irepi suggest rather
that TrcptmWeir means that some particles (water) take up a position round
others (air), form an enclosure (rrepLpoXos : TrzpmCTrrtiv being a possible

271

ODOURS

66d-67a

66b. or pure as the case may be, is stretched round air, they
form, as moist vessels of air, hollow globes of water. Some,
composed of pure moisture making a transparent enclosure,
are called ‘ bubbles ' ; while, if the moisture is earthy and
stirs and rises all together, we speak of frothing and fermenta-
tion. What is responsible for these effects is called ' acid \
An affection opposite to all those which have just been
c. described is produced by an opposite cause. When the
structure of the entering particles in liquids, being conform-
able to the normal condition of the tongue, mollifies and
smoothes the roughened parts and relaxes or contracts those
which are unnaturally shrunken or dilated, and so thoroughly
establishes the normal state, any such remedy for violent
affections is always pleasant and agreeable, and has received
the name ‘ sweet \

66D-67A. Odours

Individual odours are as easy to recognise as tastes ; but Greek,
like English, has fewer adjectives (analogous to ‘ bitter \ ‘ sour \
‘ acrid ’, etc.) denoting the general character of a group of smells.
The epithets we apply, if not drawn from the names of substances
like spice and balm, mostly express only our likes and dislikes,
especially the latter. Plato connects this difficulty of classification
with the peculiar character of the particles composing odours.

66d. So much for that matter. In the case of the faculty residing
in the nostrils no definite types 1 are to be discerned. A

passive of iTeptfidXXeiv) . Cf. 7repiarrjvai , B, 4, and avepcodevros Kal 1
w to vyp6rr)Tos of the bubbles described at 83 d. KVKaodai is important (Theophr.,
de sens . 84, summarises the entire sentence in ra kvkcjvt a ofc'a), but am-

biguous : ‘ mingle them together ' (A.-H.), * mescolave ' (Fracc.), ‘ s’ imul-
sionner ' (Rivaud) . I have supposed that irepl aXXrjXa implies a circular
stirring, which would account for the globular form of the bubble. The
effect of this stirring is that the moisture (which may or may not be con-
taminated with the earthy particles it finds in the veins) falls into position
round the circumference (TrepnrlnreLv) and, as the airy particles (erepa) find
their way inside the different (watery) particles, the action of the moisture
produces out of itself and the air the final result — hollow films (kolXcl) of
moisture stretched round the air particles which get inside. I doubt whether
els erepa evhvopeva (cf. els ras <f>Xef}as evSvopevcuv, 66a, 3) erepa KolXa arrepya^eaQa 1
can mean ‘taking up other positions to form new hollows’ (A.-H., Tr.).
The form of the phrase rather resembles 64B, to pkv yap Kara <f>voiv
evKLinjrov . . . SiaSISwaiv (sc. to ira&os) kvkXlo fiopia erepa erepots ravrov dncpya-
a, if ixopia there be taken (as by A.-H.) in epexegetic apposition to to

1 el S17, definite varieties of smell, which could be classified by names corre-
sponding to ‘ sour ', * pungent \ * bitter etc., in tastes. cl$ei in the next
line plainly means type of regular figure (pyramid, octahedron, etc.).

272

ODOURS

66d. smell is always a half-formed thing, and no type of figure
has the proportions necessary for having an odour. The
veins of smell have a structure too narrow for earth and
water and too wide for fire and air ; hence no one has ever
perceived any odour in any of these bodies ; odours arise
from substances in process of being liquefied or decomposed
or dissolved or evaporated. They occur in the intermediate

E. stage when water is changing into air or air into water.
All odours are vapour or mist, mist being that which is on
the way from air to water, vapour what is on the way from
water to air ; consequently, all odours are finer than water,
grosser than air. Their nature is plainly seen when a man
forcibly inhales the air through something that obstructs
the passage of the breath : then no odour filters through
with it ; nothing comes but the air robbed of all scent.
67. Accordingly, the diversities of odour fall into two sets.
They lack names because they do not consist of a definite
number of simple types.1 The only clear distinction to be
drawn here is twofold : the pleasant and the unpleasant.
The unpleasant roughens and does violence to the whole
cavity lying between the crown of the head and the navel ;
the pleasant soothes this region and restores it with content-
ment to its natural state.

This account of the particles which enter the passages of respira-
tion and give rise to sensations of smell adds some unexpected
features to the earlier classification of sensible bodies. Hitherto
we have understood that these fall into two classes : the four
simple bodies and bodies compounded of two or more of these.
The simple bodies consist each of regular polyhedra of uniform
pattern in different grades of size. We are now told that no grade
of any simple body is so proportioned to the size of the passages
as to be capable of causing sensations of smell — a statement which
seems very improbable. Thus all grades of pure fire, air, water,
and earth are ruled out. We might expect that smell would be
caused by some compounds of the simple bodies, analogous to the
complex juices which we can taste. But compounds are also
excluded, for no clear reason. Smell is occasioned only by vapour
and mist, and these are apparently composed of particles of a third
class, formed in the transitions between air and water, finer than
the icosahedra of water and grosser than the octahedra of air.

That particles of some shape suitably proportioned to the

1 I understand noXXa to mean a definite number of species in which smells
might be classified. So Tr., p. 473.

273

ODOURS

66d-67a

passages are intended, is clear from the whole context. ‘ It would
seem then as Archer-Hind says,1 * as if Plato conceived matter
in its passage from air to water, or from water to air, to be made
up of irregular figures intermediate in size between the particles
of air and those of water/ In the earlier description of these
transformations (56c ff.), Plato spoke as if the triangles into which
the figures of the simple bodies are broken down could wander
about by themselves until they could reform into some regular
solid. But at that stage the statement of the theory was by no
means complete ; we had not even learnt that there are many
grades of size for each simple body. When this was added (57c),
it became clear that the loose triangles might recombine in figures
of the same pattern, but of larger or smaller grades, and we were
told that this actually occurs in the case of water (58E). It may
be that Plato is now adding a further possibility, which would
remove the absurdity of supposing that triangular surfaces which
are not the surfaces of any solid can stray about by themselves.
Are we to understand that the triangles, on the way from one
regular form to another, at every moment compose a series of
irregular solids of intermediate size 2 — a third class of particles
which are neither simple bodies nor compounds of simple bodies ?
Between the fire-pyramid and the air-octahedron there is one such
figure, the double pyramid with 6 faces. Between the octahedron
and the icosahedron of water (the intermediate stages with which
we are concerned) there is a whole series. If on any face of the
octahedron we plant a tetrahedron, we obtain 3 new faces instead
of 1 old one ; that is, we increase the number of faces by 2. We
can therefore obtain irregular figures of 10, 12, 14, 16, 18 faces
between the octahedron and the icosahedron. In vapour and mist
we shall then have perceptible bodies composed of such irregular
particles. The fact that they are irregular and are rapidly shifting
from one shape to another would explain the indefinite character
of odours, which prevents us from giving their varieties distinctive
names.

It seems not unlikely that Plato is here disclosing a further
feature of that ‘ longer account ’ which he held in reserve (54B).
Even so, the explanation of smell remains unconvincing. It is
difficult to imagine that all the irregular intermediate particles can

1 On 66e, inconsistently with A.-H.'s previous suggestion that ‘ the agent
which excites smeU is actually unformed matter \ Is there such a thing as
unformed matter in Plato’s system ?

* Cf. Tr., p. 471 : * It is just then, when they are neither icosahedra nor
octahedra but passing from one shape to the other by a series of intermediaries
which are not “ regular ” polyhedra that they neither slip through the </>\4f}uL
without contact nor are too big to get into them at aU.’

274

SOUNDS

be so different in size from any of the grades of water and of air
that they can fit passages which no grade of water or of air can
affect.1

67A-C. Sounds

The section on sound is short and simple. The only distinctions
mentioned — high and low, smooth and harsh, loud and soft — are
connected with the motions of particles. Nothing is said about the
differences of quality or timbre which we detect in our sensations.

67 A. Third among the organs of sensation we are considering is
hearing ,* and the affections occurring in this field must now

b. be explained. Sound we may define in general terms as the
stroke inflicted by air on the brain and blood through the
ears and passed on to the soul ; while the motion it causes,
starting in the head and ending in the region of the liver,
is hearing. A rapid motion produces a high-pitched sound ;
the slower the motion, the lower the pitch.2 If the motion
is regular, the sound is uniform and smooth ; if irregular,
the sound is harsh. According as the movement is on a

c. large or a small scale, the sound is loud or soft. Consonance
of sounds must be reserved for a later part of our discourse.3

The stroke transmitted through the air is said to be inflicted,
not on the ear-drum, whose very existence is ignored, but upon
the brain and blood, through the ears. Professor Onians 4 points
out that in Homer and the earliest writers after Homer there is
evidence for the belief that the breath of which sound consists
‘ passes through the ears not to the brain but to the lungs. This,
though it may seem foolish to us, is in fact a natural interpretation
of the anatomy of the head, which shows an air passage direct
from the outer air through the ear to the pharynx and so to the
lungs. Aristotle remarks that the ear “ has not a passage (tioqoq)
to the brain, but has to the roof of the mouth ”. The passage is
divided by the tympanum, its lower portion being known as the
Eustachian tube. The sense of smell working by the indrawing

1 Galen ( Hippoc . et Plat., pp. 625 ff., Muller) suggests that the four other
senses correspond to the four simple bodies : sight to fire, hearing to air,
taste to water, touch to earth. Since there is no fifth simple body, smell is
provided with something between air and water.

2 Cf. Archytas, Vors. 35B, I, ra pev ovv ttotlitI tttovtcl ttoti rav atcrdrjcnv a p.kv
&TTO rav TrAayav Ta^i) Trapayiverai kox < loxvpws > 6£ea <f>alv€Tcu, ra Sc jUpatecos Kai
aadevois fiapea Sokouvti t^/xcv, ktA.

3 80 a. The processes by which Plato imagined sound to be conveyed will
be discussed on that passage.

4 Origins of Gk. and Rom. Thought, pp. 65 ff., 81.

275

COLOURS

67c-68d

of the breath would form an obvious basis for comparison and
analogy \ On our passage Professor Onians remarks that the idea
that the movement produced inside us extends from the head to
the liver has not been satisfactorily explained. ' It may well be a
relic of the beliefs traced above that sound was breathed in through
the ears to the Ovjuoq in the chest and that breath reached the liver,
and this would be helped by the consideration, e.g. in the passages
from Aeschylus just discussed, that painful news reaches the liver \
Diogenes of Apollonia and Anaxagoras regarded the ear as a
mere channel for sound. Diogenes said that the air inside the ears
is set in motion by the air outside and transmits this motion to the
brain ; Anaxagoras, that the sound penetrates to the brain, striking
on the hollow skull surrounding it.1 The author of the Hippocratic
treatise On Flesh, xv, attacks this view on the ground that the
brain, being soft and moist, cannot be resonant.

67C-68D. Colours

The earlier account of vision (45 b) dealt only with the visual
ray whose fire coalesces with the daylight. We have now to
consider, from the side of the objects seen, the variety of colours.

The difficulty of the following section arises partly from the fact
that Greek adjectives denoting colours do not coincide with our
own terms and are not easily identified, partly from the procedure,
which begins by describing several varieties of fire-particles whose
action on the visual ray produces different colour sensations, and
then goes on to speak of compound colours as if they were pigments
such as a painter makes by mixing other pigments.

67c. There remains yet a fourth kind of sensation which demands
classification, since it embraces a great number of diversities.
They are known by the general name of colour, a flame
which streams off from bodies of every sort and has its
particles so proportioned to the visual ray as to yield sensation.
d. Earlier we have explained merely how the visual ray arises ;
so it is natural and fitting to add here a reasonable account
of the colours, as follows.

The particles that come from other bodies and enter the
visual ray when they encounter it, are sometimes smaller,
sometimes larger than those of the visual ray itself ; or they
may be of the same size. Those of the same size are imper-
ceptible— ‘ transparent as we call them. The larger, which
contract the ray, and the smaller which dilate it, are analogous
to what is cold or hot to the flesh, and again to what is

1 Theophr., de sens. 40, 28.

276

COLOURS

67D. astringent or burning (‘ pungent ' as, we call it) to the tongue.

e. These are black and white, affections which are due to those
particles and are similar in character, though occurring in
a different field and for that reason presenting themselves in
a different guise. The names should be assigned accord-
ingly : * white ’ to what dilates the visual ray, * black ' to
what contracts it.

When the more piercing motion belonging to a different
variety of fire falls upon the ray and dilates it right up to
the eyes and forcibly thrusts apart and dissolves the very
passages in the eyeball, it causes the discharge of a mass of
68. fire and water which we call a tear. Itself consisting of fire,
it meets fire from the opposite quarter leaping out like a
flash of lightning, while the in-going fire is quenched in the
moisture ; and in this confusion all manner of colours arise.
The effect we call * dazzling * ; the agent which produces it
* bright ' and * flashing \1

b. Then there is the variety of fire intermediate between these
two, which reaches the moisture of the eyeball and is mixed
with it, but is not flashing. The radiance of the fire through
the moisture with which it is mingled yields blood-colour,
which we call * red \2

Bright mixed with red and white produces orange. In
what proportions they are mixed it would be foolish to state,
even if one could know ; the matter is one in which no one
could be even moderately sure of giving either a proof or a
plausible estimate.

Up to this point colours have been described in terms of the
larger or smaller fire-particles which stream off the coloured object.
White, black, and red seem to be regarded as primary or simple
colours,3 familiar to Greek eyes from vase-paintings. The addition
of ‘ bright ' or * flashing * is puzzling. We are at first told that
the dazzling effect gives rise to ‘ colours of all sorts * ; but in the

1 ‘ Bright 1 and * flashing ' are ranked as colours. This supports the belief
that Greek terms for colour have more to do with differences of tone and
brilliance than with differences of shade.

2 So Aristotle, Meteor. 374 a, 3, says that white light seen through a dark
medium looks red (and he regards water as dark) ; e.g. the sun appears red
through smoke or mist.

8 According to Aristotle, Meteor, iii, 2, 372a, 1 ff., the rainbow contains
three colours, red (foipucovv) , green (npaotvov), purple (aXovyyov) , and some-
times orange ((avdov) between the red and the green. Red, green, and
purple are, he adds, the only colours which painters cannot make by mixing.
Democritus (Theophr., de sens. 73 ff.) recognised four colours as simple :
white, black, red, pale yellow-green (*A a>p6v).

277

COLOURS

67c-68d

ist sentence ' bright ' is treated as if it were a simple colour entering
nth others, like white and red, into compounds. The first of the
ompounds, orange, is still treated as a natural colour ; the pro-
ortions of the ingredients (which we should still naturally take
o be various grades of fire) cannot even be plausibly guessed,
lere the method changes. We hear no more of diffeiv.nt varieties
f fire-particles. Prescriptions are given for making compound
igments out of the simple colours already named and orange. To
he process of mixing pigments the statement that no one could
lake even a probable estimate of the quantities required seems
ardly to apply.

8c. Red blended with black and white is purple, or dark violet,
when these ingredients are burnt to a further point and more
black is added to the mixture.

Tawny is formed by blending orange and grey, grey being
a mixture of white and black ; while yellow is a combination
of white with orange.

White combined with bright and plunged in intense black
results in a dark blue colour ; dark blue mixed with white,
in pale blue-green ; tawny and black, in green (P).1

From these instances of the blending of pigments Plato now
everts to the colours (considered as mixtures of varieties of fire
>articles) which they ‘ represent ' or, as it were, embody. His
oncluding words seem to warn us that no practical experiments
n mixing measured quantities of pigments can yield any certain
nferences as to the exact quantities of fire-particles of various
grades composing a colour. The proportions involved are, as he
aid just above, inaccessible even to conjecture.

>8d. From these examples it will be sufficiently clear by what
combinations the remaining colours should be represented
so as to preserve the probability of the account. But any
attempt to put these matters to a practical test would argue
ignorance of the difference between human nature and divine,
namely that divinity has knowledge and power sufficient to
blend the many into one and to resolve the one into many,
but no man is now, or ever will be, equal to either task.

1 ir paoios is commonly taken to mean green like the leek (vpaaov), though
Aristotle uses the form 7rpaoivos and the substantive i rpaaiov means * hore-
lound of which two varieties are described by Theophrastus, H.P. 6, 2, 5.
f green is meant, the statement is not much more surprising than that the
iddition of black to red should produce a * bilious ' colour (83B). Democritus
compounded -npamvov of irop<f>vpovv (crimson) and tcrans (woad-blue), Theophr.,
le sens. 77.

278

CO-OPERATION OF REASON AND NECESSITY

68E-69A. Conclusion

The second part here ends with a reminder that it has been con-
cerned throughout mainly with ‘ what comes about of Necessity \
We must study necessary causes, though such study be only a
sober amusement, because this is the only way of approaching the
manifestations of rational purpose in Nature. Happiness will
consist in apprehending these and conforming our own nature to
the harmony which we find in the universe. Cf. 47B, c and 90B.

68e. All these things, then, being so constituted of necessity,
were taken over by the maker of the fairest and best of all
things that become, when he gave birth to the self-sufficing
and most perfect god ; he made use of causes of this order
as subservient, while he himself contrived the good in all
things that come to be. We must accordingly distinguish
two kinds of cause, the necessary and the divine. The
divine we should search out in all things for the sake of a
69. life of such happiness as our nature admits ; the necessary
for the sake of the divine, reflecting that apart from the
necessary those other objects of our serious study cannot by
themselves be perceived or communicated, nor can we in
any other way have part or lot in them.

III. THE CO-OPERATION OF REASON AND
NECESSITY

69A-D. Recapitulation. Addition of the mortal parts of soul

The third part now opens with a brief recapitulation of the steps
by which the account of the works of Reason in the first part led
us to the same point that we have now reached once more, from
the opposite quarter, in the analysis of what happens of Necessity :
namely the point of contact between the individual soul and the
external world in sensation and sense perception. In the first
part the rational soul was framed by the Demiurge himself. The
second part has analysed the bodily down to its foundation in
Space, the Receptacle of all becoming, and then built it up again
by introducing the element of regular geometrical shape, imposed
upon the chaotic motions and powers. The interaction of the
simple bodies so formed has been described mainly in terms of
necessary causation with little reference to rational design. The
third part is now to exhibit the co-operation of Reason and Necessity
in the work of the created gods. Their task is to frame the mortal

279

CO-OPERATION OF REASON AND NECESSITY 69a-i

parts of the soul and the bodily organs to house them. Hence-
forward the interest of intelligent purpose again predominates.
The distinction between the created gods and the Demiurge is not
maintained. Throughout this last part of the dialogue, the work
is done sometimes by ‘ the gods \ sometimes by 1 the god * ; at
one place (71A) plural and singular are used in the same sentence.
Plato does not seriously mean that the divine souls of the stars
take an active part in the making of other living creatures. Their
creative function is as mythical as that of the Demiurge, from
which it is no longer kept distinct.

69A. Now that the materials for our building lie ready sorted 1
to our hand, namely the kinds of cause we have distinguished,
which are to be combined in the fabric of our remaining
discourse, let us in brief return to our starting-point and
rapidly trace the steps that led us to the point from which
we have now reached the same position once more 2 ; and

b. then attempt to crown our story with a completion fitting
all that has gone before.

As was said at the outset, these things were in disorder
and the god introduced into them all every kind of measure
in every respect in which it was possible for each one to be
in harmonious proportion both with itself and with all the
rest. For at first they were without any such proportion,
save by mere chance,3 nor was there anything deserving to
* be called by the names we now use — fire, water, and the
rest ; but all these he first set in order, and then framed

c. out of them this universe, a single living creature containing
within itself all living creatures, mortal and immortal. Of
the divine he himself undertook to be the maker 4 ; the
task of making the generation of mortals, he laid upon his
own offspring. They, imitating him, when they had taken
over an immortal principle of soul, went on to fashion for

1 L. and S. (1927) cite, for the metaphorical use of 8tvAi£a>, Archyt., ap .
Stob. 3, I, 108, SivXioncva apcra arro navros tw 6varu> naOtos-

2 The 4 same position ' is sensation and sense-perception, which we reached
at the end of the first part (45B-47E), and have now reached again in the
concluding paragraphs of the second part. The expression is condensed;
but ravrov can hardly bear any other meaning.

3 The reference is to those transient semblances of order which might
occur without design in the chaos described at 53 a by the mere attraction
of like to like, or in the Atomists' casual vortices, or in Empedocles' system
by the elements rushing through one another (cf. Ar., Phys. B4, 196A, 20 ff.).

4 There is no suggestion in the Greek avros of the 4 lowly peasant ' (avrovpyos)
whom Tr. (p. 495) connects with 4 the thought of God humbling Himself in
the service of His creatures

280

SEATS OF THE MORTAL SOUL

69c. it a mortal body englobing it round about.1 For a vehicle
they gave it the body as a whole, and therein they built on
another form of soul, the mortal, having in itself dread and

d. necessary affections : first pleasure, the strongest lure of
evil ; next, pains that take flight from good ; temerity more-
over and fear, a pair of unwise counsellors ; passion hard to
entreat, and hope too easily led astray. These they com-
bined with irrational sense and desire that shrinks from no
venture,2 and so of necessity 3 compounded the mortal
element.

69D-72D. The bodily seats of the two mortal parts of the soul

The summary at the end of this section (72D) explains that it
is concerned with the bodily habitations of the mortal parts of the
soul and the reasons why they are situated in certain organs,
separately from the divine part in the head. In the earlier passage
above referred to (44D-45B), the skull was described as the ' spherical
body ’ in which the revolutions of the immortal soul were confined.
The head, containing the brain and the divine part of the soul, is
the human counterpart of the spherical body of the universe con-
taining the revolutions of the World-Soul. The rest of the human
body, as we have just been reminded, was treated as a ‘ vehicle '
(fixy/Lia, 44E), added because the head, unlike the body of the
universe, requires to be carried about from place to place. So the
trunk and limbs were there regarded as a machine for locomotion ;
and the sense-organs situated in the fore part of the head, as
instruments enabling the soul to find its way about. Only the
eyes were dealt with in detail. The whole account was concerned
with soul and body from the point of view of movement.

But we learnt earlier, from the address of the Demiurge (42A),
that the implanting of the immortal soul in a body subject to
perpetual waste and repair would entail certain necessary conse-

1 The head, the ‘ spherical body ’ in which the revolutions of the immortal
soul were confined (44D) . The trunk and limbs were then added as a ‘ vehicle ’
to carry the head about. Cf. 73c, the god moulds the brain containing ‘ the
divine seed ' into a spherical ball (nepufrepi} iramraxjj) » and then 7 repi rov
iyK€(f>aXov avrov o<f>aipav ire piero pvevaev ocrretvTjv (e) .

2 emx^iprjr^ navros eptDTi. The recollection of Eros, the son of Poros,
avhpctos tov teal Ittjs teal avvrovos ( Symp . 203D) makes Tr.'s ‘ dare-devil lust *
seem further from Plato's meaning than A.-H.'s ‘ love that ventures all things \

8 Note avayKaiajs here and avayKala nad^pLara above (c, 8). The words
echo the repeated references to necessity in the parallel passage (42 a) here
specially referred to. The body and the concomitant desires and passions
of the mortal soul are a necessary (indispensable) adjunct to the immortal
part, if man is to exist on earth. Limited by this necessity, the gods have
now to establish the mortal soul, as best they can, in suitable organs.

281

HEART AND LUNGS 69d-72d

quences : sensation and perception, due to ‘ violent affections '
from without, pleasure and pain combined with desire, fear and
anger and many other feelings and emotions, which would need
control. These ‘ necessary affections * have now to be further
considered. Sensation has already been exhaustively treated in the
second part ; pleasure and pain, as * common affections of the
whole body ', were analysed before the special senses were taken in
detail (64A-65B). It remains to specify the bodily seats of the
emotions and of the appetites connected with nutrition. These
are housed in the organs inside the trunk : heart, lungs, belly,
liver, spleen, etc. The position, structure, and functions of these
organs are described, not from a physiological standpoint, but in
relation to the feelings and appetites of the two inferior parts of
the soul. The emphasis falls on the purposes they serve as the
seats of feelings and desires that contribute to moral conduct ;
little is said about their behaviour as indispensable means to the
preservation of physical life.

Two groups of organs corresponding to the mortal parts of the soul.
— The organs, accordingly, are taken in two groups, separated by
the diaphragm, corresponding to the higher and lower parts of
the mortal soul already distinguished in the Republic.

69D. Now fearing, no doubt, to pollute the divine part on their
account, save in so far as was altogether necessary, they
e. housed the mortal apart from it in a different dwelling-place
in the body, building between head and breast, as an isthmus
and boundary, the neck, which they placed between to keep
the two apart. In the breast, then, and the trunk (as it is
called) they confined the mortal kind of soul. And since
part of it has a nobler nature, part a baser, they built another
partition across the hollow of the trunk, as if marking off
the men's apartment from the women's, and set the midriff
as a fence between them.

The Spirited part situated in the heart. The lungs. — Above the
diaphragm are the heart and lungs. The heart is the seat of the
Spirited element (to BvfioeideQ , Bv/aog), which answered to the lower
class of guardians in Plato's commonwealth, the garrison or standing
army, subordinate to the philosophic rulers and embodying, with
their characteristic virtue of manly courage (dvdgela), the element
of force in government. They were mentioned in Socrates'
recapitulation at 17D.

70A. That part of the soul, then, which is of a manly spirit and
ambitious of victory they housed nearer to the head, between

282

I HEART AND LUNGS

fOA. the midriff and the neck, that it might be within hearing of
the discourse of reason and join with it in restraining by
force the desires, whenever these should not willingly consent
to obey the word of command from the citadel.1 The heart,
b. then, the knot of the veins and the fountain of the blood
which moves impetuously round throughout all the members,2
they established in the guardroom, in order that, when the
spirit should boil with anger at a message from reason that
some act of wrong is taking place in the members, whether
coming from outside or, it may be, from the desires within,
then every sentient part of the body should quickly, through
all the narrow channels, be made aware of the commands
and threats and hearken with entire obedience, and so
suffer the noblest part to be leader among them all.

Aristotle (de anim . 403a, 19), illustrating how soul is related to
body as form to matter, gives anger as an example : the dialectician
will define anger as desire for retaliation ; the physicist will describe
the material aspect, ‘ a boiling of the blood or heat 3 * * * * 8 in the region
of the heart ’. The two aspects are combined in Plato’s description.
The rational part, as the headquarters of sense-perception, first
becomes aware that an act of wrong is taking place in some region
of the body. It sends down a message to the spirited element in
the heart. Then the blood begins to boil and rush outwards
through all the veins, so conveying to all the fleshy parts the
impulse to quell the disturbance.

70c. Moreover, for the throbbing of the heart when danger is
foreseen or anger aroused, foreseeing that all such swelling
of passion would come to pass by means of fire, they devised
a relief by implanting the structure of the lung, soft and
bloodless and moreover perforated within by cavities like a

1 The comparison of the intelligence in the brain to a sacred image set up
in the acropolis of the body is attributed to Hippocrates in the Anec. Med.
edited by Fuchs. Wellmann (Fr. d. gr. Aerzte, p. 19) thinks it may have
occurred in a lost Hippocratic work.

2 Cf. [Hippocr.] 7r. Kaph tys, 7 : the great artery and the thick vein are the

fountains of man's nature, and the rivers by which the body is watered.

They carry the life of man, and if they are dried up, he dies. From the many

points of contact between this treatise and Plato and Diodes, Wellmann

concludes that it was written under the influence of the Sicilian medical

school and in particular of Philistion (ibid., 107).

8 According to 7 r. Kaphirjs, 6, the * innate fire ' (cpufrvrov 7 rvp) is seated in
the left ventricle of the heart, together with the intelligence (yvd>pL7j) which
rules the rest of the soul (10). The blood is not naturally warm, as some
suppose (12).

283

69d-72d

BELLY, LIVER, SPLEEN

Plato has transferred the function of rational thought to the
immortal xpvxV lodged in the head. His dv/adg covers a much
restricted field of consciousness ; it is now a part of the soul, no
longer a material substance ; but it is still housed in the chest, its
fury is the boiling of the blood, and it is mortal. The lungs are
falsely described as bloodless.1 They receive the breath (which
they dispense to the body, 84D) and some of the liquid we drink ;
but their function emphasised in this context is merely to serve
as a buffer for the throbbing heart and to cool it down, dvfiog is
now more closely associated with the blood than with the breath ;
its seat is the heart, rather than the lungs.

The Appetitive part situated in the belly . The liver and the spleen .
— Below the diaphragm, the stomach is compared to a manger, to
which the lower mortal part, the appetitive, is tethered like a
stalled beast. Its region, extending as far down as the navel, is also
tenanted by the liver and the spleen, for which relevant functions
have to be provided. These have no connection with the physical
function of the appetitive, namely nutrition.

70D. That part of the soul whose appetite is set on meat and
drink and all that it has need of for the sake of the body’s
nature, they housed between the midriff and the boundary

e. towards the navel, constructing in all this region as it were
a manger for the body’s nourishment. There they tethered
it like a beast untamed but necessary to be maintained
along with the rest if a mortal race were ever to exist.
Accordingly, they stationed it here with the intent that,
always feeding at its stall and dwelling as far as possible
from the seat of counsel, it might cause the least possible
tumult and clamour and allow the highest part to take
71. thought in peace for the common profit of each and
all.

And because they knew that it would not understand the
discourse of reason and that, even if it should somehow
become aware of any such discourse, it would not be in its
nature to take any heed, whereas it would most readily fall
under the spell of images and phantoms both by night and
by day, the god, designing to gain this very influence,2

1 Aristotle's remark that those who imagine the lung to be bloodless are
deceived by the observation of lungs removed from animals under dissection,
the blood having all escaped (H. A. 496^, 5), is directed against the Sicilian
school, whom Plato is following.

2 The interpretation of rovrto 8eos emfiovXcvoas avrco is doubtful : * lay
in wait for this same weakness' (Tr.). But the analogy of

286

BELLY, LIVER, SPLEEN

71. formed the liver and set it in the creature's dwelling-place,

b. and contrived that it should be a substance close in texture,
smooth and bright, possessing both sweetness and bitterness.
The purpose was that the influence proceeding from the
reason should make impressions of its thoughts upon the
liver, which would receive them like a mirror and give back
visible images. This influence would strike terror into the
appetitive part, at such times as, taking a part in keeping
with the liver's bitterness, it threatens with stern approach 1 ;
swiftly suffusing this bitterness throughout the liver, it
would cause bilious colours 2 to appear thereon ; make it
all rough and wrinkled by contraction ; and as it shrinks and

c. bows down the lobe, obstructs the vessels, and closes the
entrance, produce pain and nausea. Sometimes, again,
when some inspiration of gentleness from the mind delineates
semblances of the contrary sort, it gives rest from the bitter-
ness, because it will not stir up or have dealings with a nature
contrary to its own ; rather, using towards it a sweetness of
like nature to the sweetness in the liver itself,3 and setting

t, etc., suggests that tovtw aurw may mean the exercising of ^u^aycuyta,
the last thing mentioned. Note the vagueness of 8eos following the plural
ctSorcs at the beginning of the sentence.

1 I suggest that xp may mean something like ' playing a role *
and rrjs 7TiKpoT7jTos be governed by ovyycvei. This would account for ovyyevei
agreeing with fiepet, not with ttu<p6t7)tos, and for the position of the clause
before ^aAon? irpooevcxOeioa dneiXf} which describes the role in question.
A.-H.'s ‘ making use of the bitter element akin to its own dark nature ' gives
an unnatural sense to fiepei rijs 7nKporr)Tos ■ Tr.’s ‘ availing itself in some
measure of this congenital bitterness ’ is hardly a fair paraphrase of words
which, taken literally in this way, mean * availing itself of a congenital part
of the bitterness as if other parts were not congenital ; and the word ‘ part ’
seems superfluous. I cannot find the phrase pepa xPVa^ai elsewhere in the
sense of partes agere ; but ayyeXov pepas (A gam. 291), * turn of duty as
messenger ' (L. and S.), to €p.ov fiepos, etc., mean the part taken in some
action, office, function {partes — munus), and xPVa^al TeX*7? means to exercise
a trade, pepos seems appropriate here because to threaten is only one of
two parts that the influence can play, and the word suggests * exercising a
part of its function which is in keeping . . .'

a Cf. 83B for the meaning of ‘ bilious colour '.

8 I understand yXvKvrr)Ti rfj kcit ckclvo ( yXvKvnjn) avfx<f>VT<p rrpos avro XP eo/xcMiy
because this phrase seems parallel to nepci rrjs mKpo'rqros XPWP t€v1? crvyytvcl above.
yXvKvs from Homer onwards denotes a quality of persons. Or we may
understand with A.-H. that the influence uses upon the liver the sweetness
which permeates it and is akin to (the sweetness of) the influence itself.
Since the bitterness of the liver has just been called ‘ a nature cqntrary to *
that of the influence, I agree with A.-H. that there is nothing ridiculous in
this interpretation. In any case it is expressed or implied that use is made
of the bitterness or sweetness in the liver itself.

287

DIVINATION

69d-72d

71D. it right till all is straight and smooth and free, it makes
that part of the soul that dwells in the region of the liver 1
to thrive in well-being and gentleness of mood, and by night
to pass its time in the sober exercise of divination by dreams,
since it had no part in rational discourse and understanding.
For our makers remembered their father's injunction to
make the mortal race as perfect as possible, and they tried
to set even the baser part of us on the right path in this way,
by establishing the seat of divination in this part, that it
E. might have some apprehension of reality and truth.

That divination is the gift of heaven to human unwisdom
we have good reason to believe, in that no man in his normal
senses deals in true and inspired divination, but only when
the power of understanding is fettered in sleep or he is
distraught by some disorder or, it may be, by divine posses-
sion. It is for the man in his ordinary senses to recall and
construe the utterances, in dream or in waking life, of
72. divination or possession, and by reflection to make out in
what manner and to whom all the visions of the seer betoken
some good or ill, past, present, or to come. When a man
has fallen into frenzy and is still in that condition, it is not
for him to determine the meaning of his own visions and
utterances ; rather the old saying is true, that only the
sound in mind can attend to his own concerns and know
himself. Hence it is the custom to set up spokesmen to
b. pronounce judgment on inspired divination. These are
themselves given the name of diviners 2 by some who are
quite unaware that they are expositors of riddling oracle or
vision and best deserve to be called, not diviners, but spokes-
men of those who practise divination.

This, then, is the reason why the liver has such a nature
and situation as we have described : it is for the sake of
divination. So long as any creature is yet alive the indica-

1 This phrase might support Galen’s often repeated assertion that Plato
regards the liver as the seat of the appetitive part (e.g. Hipp. et Plat. 569 ;
V.P. iv, 13; in Tim. 10 Dar. 11 Schroder).

* ' Prophet ’ would be a more natural word ; but Plato restricts 7Tpo<f>rjT7)s to
its proper sense (‘ spokesman’). Apollo was both pAvns and Jtdy 77/50^177179;
but Plato associates the word pavris with pavla, the divine madness of
Phaedrus 244B, contrasted with the uninspired augury which draws inferences
from observed omens. This rational procedure he calls oitoviarucf, not
fiavrucj, and it is comparable with the business of the interpreter. Euripides
(frag. 973) Jiad written * the best diviner (jiAvtis) is he who makes a good
guess ’, and Antiphon ( Vors . 8oa, 9) is said to have defined /iamq as av9pu> nov
<f>povifxov €LKaap,os. Plato may here be thinking of such misuses of the
word navris- Cf. Plut., def. orac. 432c.

288

DIVINATION

72 b. tions given by such an organ are comparatively clear 1 ; but
deprived of life it becomes blind and its signs are too dim

c. to convey any certain meaning.

Commentators who do not believe in divination have exaggerated
what Archer-Hind calls ‘ the keen irony pervading the whole ’ of
the passage describing it as the gift of heaven to human unreason.
It is true, no doubt, that Plato despised diviners like Euthyphro,
and that he ranks the seer low in the hierarchy of incarnations at
Phaedrus 248D. On the other hand, the seer is there placed fifth,
above all poets, artists, and craftsmen ; and Socrates’ earlier
rhapsody (244B) which classifies inspired prophecy with poetry,
love, and philosophy itself as forms of ‘ divine madness ’ should
not be forgotten. It is possible to combine a sincere respect for
traditional religion with a low opinion of its average professors.

Except for the passing dismissal of omens from the entrails of
sacrificial victims, the whole account is confined to divination by
dreams and visions. An earlier doctrine, which there is some
reason to call Orphic, had attributed revelation of the future in
dreams to the divine and immortal soul, which is not the seat of
normal waking consciousness (Pindar, frag. 131). Aristotle (n. (pdoa.
frag. 10) says that one source of our belief in the gods is the inspira-
tions and divinations of the soul in sleep. The soul then ' comes
to be by itself ’, recovers its proper nature, and divines and foretells
the future. It is also in this condition when it is in the act of
being separated from the body at death. Thus in Homer Patroclus
fore+r'n the death of Hector, and Hector the death of Achilles.

o, refers to this belief in the mantic power of the soul at the
moment of dying (Aftol. 39c and Phaedo 85B). In our passage,
however, the view is different. The seer who has the visions is
not the divine and immortal part, but the irrational and appetitive,
which receives warnings and admonitions, in these symbolic images,
from the reason, and requires the aid of the reason’s waking
reflection to interpret them.

The next paragraph describes the spleen as a useful adjunct to
the liver, just as the lung was treated as a buffer for the heart.

72c. Again, the structure of the neighbouring organ and its
position on the left are for the sake of the liver, to keep it
always bright and clean, like a napkin provided to wipe a

1 The words €Kaorov to toiovtov seem intended to include the corresponding
organ in any (non-human) creature ; for the rest of the sentence dismisses
divination from the appearance of the liver in sacrificed animals, although
their dream images could not be due to any influence from reason, which
they do not possess.

28q

SUMMARY

72d-73a

72c. mirror and always laid ready beside it. So, when any
impurities arise in the region of the liver from bodily dis-
orders, they are all purged away and absorbed by the spleen,
whose texture is not close, since it has cavities not containing

d. blood. Hence, when it is filled with these offscourings, it
waxes swollen and festered, and, when the body is purged,
subsides again and is reduced to its former state.

72D-73A. Summary and transition to the rest of the body

The following paragraph notes that we have so far been con-
cerned with the special habitations of the two mortal parts of the
soul, as distinct from the divine part situated in the head. The
heart and lungs in the upper region, the belly, liver, and spleen in
the lower, have been treated as the seats of emotions and of the
desire for food, with comparatively little reference to what we
should call their physiological functions. We are next to consider
' the remainder of the body >.1 This phrase covers, in the first
place, the rest of the contents of the trunk (as opposed to the
limbs), namely the viscera below the navel, which was the lower
boundary of the appetitive. Their utility to the soul is stated,
and the discourse then proceeds, without further preface, to ' the
remainder of the body ' in a wider sense.

72D. Concerning the soul, then, we have stated what part of it is
mortal and what divine, and where, in what company, and
for what reasons the two are housed apart. We could
confidently assert that our account is the truth only if it
were first confirmed by heaven ; but that it is the probable
account we may venture to say now, and still more on
further consideration. Let that claim, then, be taken as
made.

e. The next part of our task must be pursued on the same
principles : this was the manner in which the remainder of
the body came to be.2 Now the design that would most

1 Tr. (p. 517) objects to this translation, and renders : ‘ it remains to tell
how the body was made \ ‘We have \ he says, ‘ not yet heard about any
part of the body jj yiyove, but only o£ evena yeyov e. ’ But the next sentences
proceed to describe the purpose (not the manner) of the formation of the lower
viscera (not the body as a whole) , on precisely the same lines as the foregoing
section ; and the subsequent paragraphs do not go back to heart, lungs,
liver, etc., and tell us how they were made, but deal with other parts of the
body, bones, flesh, etc., whose purpose has not yet been described.

* The reference of jjv is to 61 c, ‘ we have not yet described the formation
of flesh and all that belongs to it, or the mortal part of the soul ' (so A.-H.),
not, as Tr. suggests, to 69c, 6, which is part of a summary of statements
already made, with no suggestion of any task still to be performed. The

290

MAIN STRUCTURE OF THE BODY

72E. fittingly account for its construction would be this. The
framers of mankind knew what would be our intemperance
in meat and drink and that, out of gluttony, we should use
far more than the moderate or necessary amount. Accord-
ingly, to make provision against the danger that disease
should bring swift destruction and the mortal race should
73. forthwith come to an end in immaturity, they appointed the
lower belly (as it is called) as a receptacle to hold the super-
fluity of food and drink, and wound the bowels round in
coils, in order that the nourishment should not pass so
quickly through as to constrain the body to crave fresh
nourishment too soon, and thus making it insatiable render
all mankind incapable, through gluttony, of all cultivation
and philosophy, deaf to the command of the divinest part
of our nature.

Aristotle similarly explains the gluttonous appetite of fishes by
the straightness of their intestine, which allows the food to pass
through too rapidly for complete digestion. Dr. Ogle observes
that an abnormally short gut is, in fact, a sufficient cause for a
ravenous appetite.1 Plato emphasises the coiling of the bowels as
the one feature designed for the sake of the higher interests of the
soul, passing lightly over their ‘ necessary 1 functions.

73B-76E. The main structure of the human frame

In the above account of the two mortal parts of the soul and
their habitations, the most striking point is that the appetitive
element appears to be restricted to desires connected with nutrition,
to the exclusion of reproduction.2 In the machinery of the myth,
the creation of the sexual parts and of the desire for intercourse is
postponed until the whole account of the human body is complete
and the moment comes for the less satisfactory men to be rein-
carnated as women (90E). This is not to be taken as historical
fact ; we are not to suppose that there ever existed a generation
of men before there were any women or lower animals. Indeed,
we have more than once been told that eQcog is a necessary con-

avro in the next sentence obviously cannot mean the body as a whole (to too
aco/xaros), which was not designed for the purpose mentioned ; it must there-
fore refer to to tov odofiaros emAonrov.

1 De part. anim. 675a, 20, trans. Ogle. Tr. also quotes de gen. anim. 717 a, 20.

2 Unless this is included among the appetites for * meat and drink and all
that the soul has need of for the sake of the body’s nature * , 70D. Cf. Laws
782D : with mankind all things depend on three needs and desires : the
desires for food and drink, which date from birth, and thirdly sexual desire,
which emerges later. All three are there called voorj^ara.

MAIN STRUCTURE OF THE BODY 73b-76e

stituent of the mortal soul (42A, 69D). We are left to conjecture
the reasons for this curious plan. It is not enough to say that
differences of sex are postponed because the whole account of the
human soul and body applies equally to men and women, though
this may be true. If that were all, there would still be no reason
against recognising, as a part of the appetitive element, the desire
for intercourse and reproduction, which is after all common to
both sexes.

A clue may, perhaps, be found in the next paragraph, which tells
us that the seed, the physical vehicle for the transmission of life,
belongs to a different system of organs. The seed is a part of the
marrow, which extends from the head (where it forms the brain)
throughout the whole length of the spine ; this is once more clearly
stated at 91A, b. The marrow is the fundamental substance ; in
it are fastened the very bonds of life, the roots of every part of the
soul. Moreover, a portion of it, the brain, is the seat of the
immortal element in the soul. The seed is the means by which
the living creature attains to such immortality as the mortal can
have by perpetuating its race in generation. Sexual desire, as
Diotima explains in the Symposium , is only the lowest form of the
passion for immortality.1 At a higher level the satne energy finds
an object in fame after death, for which men will sacrifice life
itself ; and higher still Eros becomes the passion for wisdom,
philosophy, whereby the soul may regain the pristine purity of its
divine nature. In contrast with modern doctrines of sublimation,
Plato regards the highest form of desire as primitive and essential ;
the lower forms exist only at levels to which the soul is fated to
sink when incarnate in a mortal body. The whole doctrine is
briefly resumed at 90 b, c, before any mention is made of the
organs of sex and of the channel provided for the seed. Regarded
in this light as the passion for immortality in all its forms, Eros
could not be treated as merely an element in the appetitive part.
Its physical medium, the seed, does not belong to the sexual organs,

1 Laws 72 ib briefly repeats the doctrine put into Diotima's mouth at
Symposium 207 ff. Aristotle follows, de anim. 415a, 26 : * It is the most
natural function in all living things to reproduce their species ; animal
producing animal and plant plant, in order that they may, so far as they
can, share in the eternal and the divine. For it is that which all things
yearn after, and that is the final cause of all their natural activity. . . .
Since, then, individual things are incapable of sharing continuously in the
eternal and the divine, because nothing in the world of perishables can abide
numerically one and the same, they partake in the eternal and divine, each
in the only way it can, some more, some less. That is to say, each persists,
though not in itself, yet in a representative which is specifically, not numeri-
cally, one with it * (trans. Hicks). Also de gen. anim. 11, i.

292

MARROW, SEED, BRAIN

which merely provide an outlet and a receptacle. As actually a
part of the marrow, it is continuous with the brain, the seat of the
immortal and divine part.

The marrow, seed, and brain. — Starting from the marrow, we are
now to have a more systematic description of the human frame.
The skeleton is a bony shield protecting the marrow, and itself
protected by the flesh and skin. Thus the whole body is regarded
as a vessel with successive layers, guarding at its core the substance
in which the bonds of life are secured.

73B. With bone, flesh, and all substances of that sort the case
stands thus. The starting-point 1 for all these was the
formation of the marrow, for the bonds of life, so long as
the soul is bound up with the body, were made fast in it as
the roots of the mortal creature ; while the marrow itself is
formed of other things. The god set apart from their several
kinds those triangles which, being unwarped and smooth,
were originally able to produce fire, water, air, and earth of

c. the most exact form.2 Mixing these in due proportion to
one another, he made out of them the marrow, contriving
thus a mixture of seeds of every sort for every mortal kind.
Next he implanted and made fast therein the several kinds
of souls ; also from the first, in his original distribution, he
divided the marrow into shapes corresponding in number
and fashion to those which the several kinds were destined
to wear. And he moulded into spherical shape the plough-
land, as it were, that was to contain the divine seed ; and

d. this part of the marrow he named ‘ brain ’ ,3 signifying that,
when each living creature was completed, the vessel contain-
ing this should be the head. That part, on the other hand,
which was to retain 4 the remaining, mortal, kind of soul he
divided into shapes at once round and elongated, naming

does not mean that marrow is the fundamental stuff in the com-
position of all the other tissues, as Tr. supposes (pp. 518, 531). Bone is
steeped in it (73E), but there is no marrow in flesh (74c).

2 No physical bodies in the visible world of becoming can have the exact
perfection of the surfaces and solids of mathematics. This is one of the
limiting conditions which prevent the works of Reason from reaching ideal
perfection. The triangles composing the surfaces of visible and tangible
bodies are only copies of the triangles whose construction was described earlier.

8 ‘ Brain * (< iyK€<j>aXov ) because ‘ in the head ' {h> K€<f>aXfj).

4 Kad^eiv (so Tr.). At 74B the bones which contain marrow are called
tfju/wxa. The marrow is the life-substance in which all parts of the soul are
rooted ; but it is the actual seat only of the immortal part. The mortal part
is located elsewhere, in heart and belly, and only linked to the marrow by
anchor-cables.

203

MARROW, SEED, BRAIN 73b-76e

73D. them all ‘ marrow \1 From these, as if from anchors, he
put forth bonds to fasten all the soul ; and now began to
fashion our whole body round this thing,2 first framing
round the whole of it a solid shield of bone.

The sentence describing the formation of the marrow is of doubtful
meaning. Taylor translates :

‘ Thus he devised a universal seed for all mortality (navctneQfxiav
navrl dvrjxco yivet), fashioning the marrow from these ' (i.e.
selected triangles). ‘ Next he implanted the varieties of soul (ra
rojv yw%ajv yevrj) in it and bound them fast there ; also in the first
original distribution he divided the marrow itself into shapes
answering in number and quality to the several varieties ' (‘ sc.
the different “patterns” (eLdrj) or “parts” in the soul1).

On this interpretation (which is that of most editors) the whole
sentence refers only to the human soul and marrow. But certain
phrases are difficult to understand unless we adopt the view sug-
gested in Rivaud’s translation that the marrow contains seeds of all
sorts for every mortal kind (of animal), the roots of the kinds of souls
(plural) 3 of beasts as well as of man, and a ‘ preformist ' determina-
tion of the various shapes (types of body) which the souls of all
those species (eldrj) were destined to wear* This interpretation
accounts for the rather emphatic phrase 4 from the first, in his
original distribution \ Provision was thus made in this funda-
mental substance for what is mythically represented later (91) as
a degeneration of the male human type into woman and the lower
animals. These last fall into three main classes — land animals,
birds, and fishes — all of which include vertebrates ; and it is there
explained how the vertebrate pattern of body is distorted and
modified to suit their degenerate souls. Our passage seems
intended to forecast these modifications of the highest pattern,
with its distinction of the round brain in its spherical skull from
the elongated columns of marrow in the spine and other bones.
Rivaud refers to 76E, where provision is made in the male human

1 ‘ Shapes plural, because there are columns of marrow in other bones
than the spine.

2 tout o, not the soul (as in Tr.’s translation), but the brain and marrow
(as in his note, p. 523).

8 This plural occurs, I think, nowhere else.

4 It is difficult to understand that the two shapes (spherical and columnar)
which are described in the following sentence can correspond to the three
parts of the soul, or that the two mortal parts, seated in heart and belly,
can be said to wear (oxrfcretv) the columnar shape of the marrow in the bones,
to which they are merely rooted or anchored. Tr. ignores this oxfoew in
his translation, though in his note he says the subject of 1/xcAAc ayf octv is
probably ra rojv ifivx&v yevrj .

294

BONE, FLESH, SINEWS

body 4 at the very birth of mankind ’ of structures which will
become useful when women and beasts are ‘ developed * from men.
This development never actually happened ; and this is one of the
places where the mythical machinery becomes embarrassing and
entails the use of rather vague language. Plato may wish to
indicate that the marrow is the fundamental life-substance in all
animals and the same substance in all.

The doctrine that the seed 1 comes from the brain and the
marrow of the spine was held by the Sicilian school of medicine.
Alcmaeon of Croton is said to have called the seed a part of the
brain ( Vors . 14A, 13) and Hippo of Rhegium to have taught that
it flows from the marrow {ibid. 26A, 12). The two views are
combined by Diodes and Plato. The Hippocratean school, on the
contrary, believed that the seed came from all parts of the body.2

Bone, flesh, sinews.

73E. And bone he constructed as follows. Having sifted out
earth that was pure and smooth, he kneaded it and soaked
it with marrow ; then he plunged the stuff into fire, next
dipped it in water, and again in fire and once more in water ;
by thus shifting it several times from one to the other he
made it insoluble by either. Of this, then, he made use,
first to turn a sphere of bone to surround the creature’s
brain,3 4 and to this sphere he left a narrow outlet ; and
74. further, to surround the marrow along the neck and back,
he moulded out of bone vertebrae, which he set to serve as
pivots, starting from the head through the whole extent of
the trunk. Thus, to protect all the seed, he fenced it in a
stony enclosure, and in this he made joints, availing himself
in their case of the property of the Different, inserted between
them 4 for the sake of movement and bending.

1 That ‘ the divine seed ’ here means the semen is explicitly stated at 91B, 1.
It is ' divine * as being part of the marrow which contains the immortal part
of the soul, and also as being the vehicle and means of the immortality of
the species.

2 The evidence is collected in Schroder's note in his edition of Galen’s
Commentary on the Timaeus, p. 53. Diodes, frag. 170, Wellmann.

8 avrov can hardly mean ' of bone ' since ocrrdvrjv follows. I can only
understand it as referring, not to any word in the immediate context, but to
the creature which Plato imagines being constructed (eVao-rov £a>ou, d, i).
Cf. 78c, tu) rrXaoQivri £q>a>. Tr.’s * on the spot \ ‘ round the actual brain
seems to me impossible. Why not 7 repi p.kv avrov rdv €yK€<f>aXov ?

4 The spine is unlike the skull in consisting of many separate parts and
being capable of variable movements in any direction. This curious phrase
indicates that Plato saw something symbolic in this contrast with the single
and solid sphere of the skull (analogous to the spherical body of the world),

295

BONE, FLESH, SINEWS 73b-76e

74. Again, considering that the constitution of bone was
b. unduly brittle and inflexible, and moreover that, if it should
become fiery hot and then cold again, it would decay and
quickly cause the destruction of the seed within it, for these
reasons he devised the sinews and the flesh in such a way
that, by binding together all the limbs with sinew contracting
and relaxing about their sockets,1 he might enable the body
to bend or stretch itself out ; while the flesh was to be a
defence against burning heat and a shelter from wintry cold,
and also a protection against falls, like our borrowed trappings
of felt 2 : it would yield to bodies softly and gently, and it

adapted only to the constant revolutions of the rational soul. The lower
parts of the soul, connected with the spinal marrow, exhibit the character-
istics of the 4 wandering cause \ Cf. the contrast (at 44D) between the head
and its vehicle (the rest of the body) with limbs capable of travelling ‘ through
all the regions ' (up and down, forward and backward, right and left), added
because the creature was to possess * all the motions there are \ This is
substantially Fraccaroli's view. He translates : 4 adoperando Vazione del

var labile per ottenere tra di esse col mezzo suo e movimento e flessione.’

Here (as Tr. notes, p. 528) there is a covert polemic against the Empedoclean
notion of evolution by the survival of useful characters produced by chance.
Aristotle ( de part . anim. 640a, 19), attacking the same view, instances
Empedocles' theory that ‘ the backbone was divided as it is into vertebrae
because it happened to be broken owing to the contorted position of the
foetus in the womb At 73c, ‘ in his original distribution ' may hint that
the various species of animals were not developed casually or one species
from another. Again at 75D the mouth was designed ' as it is now arranged
1 The marrow (like the flesh and sinews) extends to other bones than those
of the skull and spine, notably the thighs. The reference here is to the
socket-joints at the crvppoXal ru>v oardiv (74E) of arms and legs (‘ all the limbs
cf. 75D), as well as to those of the vertebrae, nepl rovs arpo^nyyas, standing
between €7nr€Lvopevq) Kal dvLCfxevq) and Kap.7rr6p.evov, goes with both, rather
than with either to the exclusion of the other.

1 t a TTiXrjTa icr^para, 4 acquired things manufactured by felting ’ (hair).
Had Plato written the more obvious phrase ra eirl Knjra rriX rjpura, editors and
lexicographers would not have missed the sense or imagined that Krrjp ara
could mean (here only, and where Galen quotes the phrase) 4 coverings ’ or
4 materials '. The Division to define weaving at Polit. 279c classifies ‘ all the
things we manufacture and acquire ’ (typuovpyovpcv koX KrwpeOa) . One main
branch is defences (irpo^X^para) of all sorts, including curtains, roof-coverings,
mats, wrappings (clothes), which may be manufactured, either by jelling
{mXTjTiKrj, 280B) or by other processes. The meaning of Krrjpara (acquire-
ments) is plain from Laws 942 d, which recommends exposure to heat and
cold and hard couches in order not to spoil the natural powers of head and
feet, rfj tu>v aXXorplojv oK€rraopdra}v vepiKaXv^fj, rrjv oIkclojv aTroXXvvras ttlXcuv
t€ Kal vTTohrjfidTOiv ytveow Kal <!>voiv. Our phrase means acquired coverings
manufactured of felted hair, in contrast with the 4 native growth ' of our
own flesh, defending the bones, which themselves shield the marrow. Cf.
Chrysost. I, 2, p. 140, rpl^as fiXacrraveiv rrapeoKevaaev, (Lore avrl ttiXtipAtcov
ctvai rfj K€<f>aXfj. At 76c, d, the hair of the scalp is 4 felted * by cold

296

UNEVEN DISTRIBUTION OF FLESH

74c. contained in itself a warm moisture, which in summer it
might sweat forth and so spread a native coolness all over
the body by moistening it outside, while in winter, on the
other hand, we should have this fire 1 as a fair protection
against the assaults of the beleaguering frost outside. With
this intent, he who moulded us like wax composed flesh, soft
and full of sap, by making a duly adjusted compound with
water and fire and earth, which he suffused with a ferment

D. composed of acid and saline.2 The sinews, again, he made by
mixing bone with unfermented flesh into a substance with
properties intermediate between those two constituents,
adding a yellow colour ; hence the sinews acquired a quality
more tense and consistent than flesh, but softer and more
pliable than bone. With these the god enveloped the bones
and marrow, binding the bones to one another with sinews,

e. and he then buried them all under a covering of flesh.3

The uneven distribution of flesh. — The skeleton is now complete
and clothed with flesh. The chief organs occupying the hollow of
the trunk have been enumerated earlier as seats of the mortal
parts of the soul. Some remarks are now added on the reasons
for the uneven distribution of flesh. The bones containing the
life-substance, marrow, in the largest quantities, viz. the skull and
the spine, are comparatively ill-protected by flesh ; whereas others,
such as the thighs, which contain little marrow, are thickly covered.
This seems paradoxical, at first sight. The explanation throws an
interesting light on the relations of Reason and Necessity. In
order to shield the marrow and the life it contains, Reason uses,
as indispensable means, the solidity of bone and the softer covering
of flesh. But the necessary constitution of these integuments, as
such, tends to defeat another purpose : that sensations shall be

(rfj TTiXrjoei tt}s ipvgcais . . . ovvcTnX’fjdrj) , as if to make a natural hat. The
phrase evidently struck Galen, for after quoting it from the Timaeus at
U.P. i, 27, he repeats it four times elsewhere.

1 The native warmth, * with a tacit antithesis to the fire on the hearth ’
(Tr.). This phrase, like oIkziov above, further illustrates the meaning of

2 Tr.'s note on Ji tpuofLa (p. 531) assumes that marrow is the main stuff of
which flesh is made, and that the earth, water, and fire are the added ‘ leaven
But nothing is said in the text about the presence of any marrow at all in
flesh. See note on 73B. w rope^as (without kcu before it) is simply the
fourth in a string of aorist participles with no conjunctions. The object to
be supplied with (wfipet^as is aapKa (A.-H.).

8 The poetic use of *caTaa/aa£eiv for burial may explain the curious phrase
* overshadowing from above ' (avcoflcv, not Ifc odcv) and recall Empedocles*
oapKwv aXXoyvcoTL ■nepiortXKovaa xitojvi and oujpa

297

UNEVEN DISTRIBUTION OF FLESH 73b-76e

easily and quickly transmitted to the marrow of the brain. The
necessary means to that is thinness both of bone and of flesh. So
two sets of necessary means ‘ refuse to coincide \ Necessity cannot
be wholly persuaded by Reason to serve both its purposes, and
Reason has to sacrifice the less important.

It should be noted that Plato never uses the word ‘ muscle ’
(juvg). He seems to have thought of flesh as simply a covering and
attributed all muscular action to the ' sinews \

74E. Now those bones in which there is most life he fenced about
with the smallest amount of flesh ; those having least life
within them, with flesh in the greatest abundance and of
the toughest kind ; moreover at the joints of the bones,
wherever no cogent reason appeared to require it, he caused
but little flesh to grow. The purpose was that flesh should
not hamper the bending of the joints and so stiffen the body
as to make it hard to move about ; and, secondly, that the
solidity of many layers of thick flesh packed close on one
another should not cause dulness of sensation and produce
hardness of apprehension and unretentiveness ifi the quarters
of the mind. For this reason the thighs and shins and parts
75. about the hips, the bones of the upper arms and fore-arms,
and all other parts where there are no joints, and also all
the bones within the body that are devoid of intelligence
because they have so little soul residing in marrow — all these
have a full complement of flesh. Those parts, on the con-
trary, which are the seat of intelligence have less — save
where he formed a mass of flesh to be in itself an organ of
sensation, as for instance the structure of the tongue. With
most parts, however, it is as aforesaid ; for the constitution
of this frame which of necessity comes into being and is

b. reared with us in no wise allows dense bone and much flesh
to go together with keenly responsive sensation. For if
these two characters had consented to coincide, the structure
of the head would have possessed them above all, and the
human race, bearing a head fortified with flesh and sinew,
would have enjoyed a life twice or many times as long as
now, healthier and more free from pain. But as it was, the
artificers who brought us into being reckoned whether they

c. should make a long-lived but inferior race or one with a
shorter life but nobler, and agreed that every one must on
all accounts prefer the shorter and better life to the longer
and worse. Hence they covered in the head with thin bone,
but not with flesh nor yet with sinews, since it has no flexions.

298

SKIN, HAIR, NAILS

75c. Accordingly the head they attached to the body of every
man is all the more sensitive and intelligent, but much
weaker. The sinews, again, on the same principle and for
D. these reasons, were set by the god all round the neck so far
as to the base of the head and welded by means of uniformity,1
and he fastened to them the extremities of the jawbones just
under the face ; while the rest he distributed among all the
limbs, connecting the joints. The mouth was equipped by
our makers for its office with teeth, tongue, and lips arranged
as now, for the sake at once of what is necessary and what
is best. They devised it as the passage whereby necessary
e. things might enter and the best things pass out ; for all
that comes in to give sustenance to the body is necessary ;
but the outflowing stream of discourse, ministering to
intelligence, is of all streams the best and noblest.

Skin , hair, nails. — The supreme importance of the head is
emphasised in the following description of skin and hair. These
are treated as if they were formed only on the skull for the protec-
tion of the brain.

75E. The head, however, could not be left merely of bare bone
because of the extremes of heat and cold in the seasons ;
nor yet could they suffer it to be so muffled in masses of flesh
as to become insensitive and dull. So from the flesh, which
76. was not entirely dried up in the process, there was separated
a film which was superfluously large 2 — * skin ' as we now

1 ofioioTTjri appears to be an instrumental dative (A.-H., Tr.) : no genuine

parallel is adduced for oplolottjti — o/Wco; ( aequahter , St. ; symetriquement,
Rivaud ; uniformemente, Fracc. ; equally, L. and S.). But why should
uniformity (A.-H.) or ‘ symmetrical disposition ' (Tr.) weld the sinews
together ? A. B. Cook (Meiaph. Basis of Plato’s Ethics 139) saw a contrast
between the skull, which ‘ has no flexions *, and the vertical column, which
the god made rfj Garipov Trpoaxpwfievos hvvdfxei (74A). ‘ Plato means that

the backbone is flexible, while the head is not.' This seems to imply that
KcfaXrjv, not vevpa, is to be understood as the object of €k6XXtjo€v. If that
is possible, we might understand that the skull is * welded together ' by its
uniform and continuous spherical shape (the sphere is the most ' uniform ' of
all figures, 33B), and so has no joints and needs no sinews, as the spine does,
Kapupccos h>€Ka (74A). But it is difficult to believe that vcvpa is not the object
of cVoAAijct€.

2 Trepvyiyvtodax, 1 to be superfluous ' (not ‘ to be formed round ’) goes with
/zei£ov, which could hardly stand without it. More skin is formed on the
fleshy parts of the face than these require, and it grows over the cranium
forming the scalp. If the drying of the flesh had been mentioned before,
the ov before Kara^rjpaivofiivTjs would be above suspicion ; but, as it has not, it
is odd to speak of the flesh as * not in process of being entirely dried up \

299

SKIN, HAIR, NAILS 73b-76e

76. call it. This, owing to the moisture in the brain, grew and
closed in on itself so as to clothe the head all round ; and
the moisture rising up under the sutures watered it and
closed it, like a knot drawn together, on the crown. The
sutures are of very various patterns due to the action of the
revolutions and of the nutriment, being more or fewer in
number according as the struggle between those powers is
more or less intense.1

B. Now this skin was pricked all round with fire by the divine
part 2 ; and when the moisture issued forth through the
holes pierced in it, all that was purely moist and hot passed
away, but the part that was compounded of the same
ingredients as the skin was lifted by the motion and stretched
into a long thread outside, of a fineness equal in size to the
puncture ; but its movement was so slow that it was thrust
back by the surrounding air without and coiling back inside

c. under the skin took root there. To these processes is due
all the hair that grows on the skin : it is a thread-shaped
substance of the same nature as the skin, but harder and
denser as a result of the felting effect of the cooling, whereby
each hair is felted together 3 as it is detached from the skin.
When our creator made our heads shaggy with it, he used
the means above stated, but his thought was that this was
the right thing to serve, instead of flesh, as a covering to

d. protect the brain, both light and sufficient to provide shade
in summer and shelter in winter, without being an obstacle
to hinder readiness of perception.

Aristotle's account of the growth of hair is similar. 1 No animal
has so much hair on the head as man. This, in the first place, is
the necessary result of the fluid character of the brain, and of the
presence of so many sutures in his skull. For wherever there is
the most fluid and the most heat, there also must necessarily occur
the greatest outgrowth. But, secondly, the thickness of the hair

when you mean that it was in process of being dried, but not entirely. Odd,
but not perhaps impossible ; and the ov may be kept as negativing the Kara-,
which would be out of place if ov were omitted : we should expect gypaivofidvris
as in Aristotle's to 82 82pp.a (rjpcuvo/xevTjs rfjs aapKos yiverai.. See Tr.'s note.

1 The conflict which goes on in infancy, 43 a ff. In this paragraph and the
two following the operation of ‘ Necessity ’ comes to the front and Plato
speaks as if skin, hair, and nails had been developed by the blind action of
the primary bodies, unconsciously subserving a useful purpose.

* The fire in the brain, forcing its way upwards to seek its like. Cf . to delov,
69D, and to Belov oWp/xa, 73c.

8 So forming a natural felt hat (7t£Aos), as Tr. remarks. See note on 74B
(p. 296, above).

SKIN, HAIR, NAILS

in this part has a final cause, being intended to protect the head,
by preserving it from excess of either heat or cold. And as the
brain of man is larger and more fluid than that of any other animal,
it requires a proportionately greater amount of protection 1 (Part.
Anim. 65 8b, 2, trans. Ogle).

76D. Further, where the fabric of sinew, skin, and bone is finished
off 1 in fingers and toes, a compound of the three, when it
is dried off, forms a single hard skin containing them all.
Such were the means used in its making, but the true reason
and purpose of the work was for the sake of creatures that
were to be hereafter. For our framers knew that some day

e. men would pass into women and also into beasts, and that
many creatures 2 would need nails (claws and hoofs) for
many purposes ; hence they designed the rudiments of this
growth from the very birth of mankind.

Such, then, were their reasons and purposes in causing the
growth of skin, hair, and nails at the extremities of the limbs.3

The main structure of the human frame is now complete, with
its covering of flesh, skin, and hair. We have next to consider the
working of necessary functions entailed by the physical environ-
ment. The principal ones are the digestion of food and respiration.
Various strands of necessary causation combine to produce the
result that man must live in an atmosphere containing fire and air.
This is necessary, not desirable ; he would be better off if, like the
universe as a whole, he were not preyed upon from outside by heat
and cold and all those ‘ strong powers * which cause wasting away,
disease, age, and death (33A). The world’s body had no surrounding
air that it must breathe, and no need of organs for receiving nourish-
ment and getting rid of waste products (33c). But man is exposed
to the assault of the elements and so needs constant repair.

1 Taking KaranXoK 1} to be the point where a plait is finished off by making
the ends fast (cf. Karaarpo^) . Hence Herod, iv, 205, rty tfrjv Karin Xc£e,
viii, 83, KaranXigas ttjv prjcnv. Hesych. KararrXaKelav crwhedeiai, TTepineiTXeyp.ivois.

2 Beasts (not women), as Galen rightly understood (U.P. 1, 121). Plato
is neither anticipating Darwin nor following Empedocles. Women and beasts
have not actually developed from men ; nor had anyone ever believed that
they did. But Plato, having included transmigration in his mythical
machinery, with the unusual and fantastic addition that men are imagined
as existing at first alone, has to take this way of conveying that claws and
hoofs in animals are more obviously useful to them than nails are to human

8 A.-H. inserted re after rplxas . I cannot believe (with Tr.) that tyvoav
Sippa rptxas is Greek for ' they made the skin grow into hair \ But if Plato
could write yijs 7 rvpos vSaros re Kai a epos (82 a), no change may be necessary
here. He takes many abnormal liberties with these conjunctions.

p.c. 301

PLANTS

76e-77c

76E-77C. Plants

The account of respiration and digestion is prefaced by the
mention of the necessary sustenance provided by plants, which are
treated here because we cannot imagine man living with nothing
to eat, and what he eats must be described before the machinery
for disposing of food. No mention can be made of feeding on
animals, since the beasts are to be postponed to the end.

76E. Now that all the parts and limbs of the mortal creature
77. were united in a living whole, which, as the result of
necessity, must spend his life surrounded by fire and air
and be consequently dissolved and depleted by them and so
waste away, the gods devised succour for him. They gave
birth to a substance of a kindred nature to man's, but com-
bined with other shapes and senses,1 so as to be a living
creature of a different sort. These are trees, plants, and
seeds, now tamed and schooled by husbandry into domestica-
tion with us, though formerly there were only the wild
B. kinds, which are the older. Anything that has life has every
right to be called a living creature in the proper sense ; and
the kind of which we are now speaking has the third form of
soul, which, we said, is seated between midriff and navel ;
this has nothing to do with belief or with reasoning and
understanding, but only with sensation, pleasant or painful,
and appetites. For it is always suffering all affections, but
its formation has not endowed it with any power to observe
the nature of its own affections and to reflect thereon 2 * by

1 Plants are very different in shape and appearance (IScais) from human

beings and, although sensitive, they have not our organs of sense ; but their
substance must be akin (ovyyevrj) to ours ; otherwise we could not feed on
them. Cf. dno avyyevwv, 8od, 8, and to ovyycves, 8ia, 3, and B, 2, where the
meaning is unmistakable. All plants and animals are composed of the same
four simple bodies (cf. 82 a and Philebus 29B, Soph. 266b).

8 Reading <f>vaiv with W. and understanding (with A.-H.) Kanhovn <f)v<nv
rtdv avrov which A.-H. rendered by ‘ observing its own being ' ; i.e. a plant,
though conscious, is not self-conscious. A.-H. admitted that the expression
is a little strange and doubted whether <j>va€i should not be preferred, as
having an 4 overwhelming preponderance of MS. evidence * in its favour.
On the other hand, <f>va€t adds nothing to the implications of yivcats and
creates a hiatus with ov following. See note on 20A. rtdv avrov is vague ; it
might mean * its own concerns ’ (cf. yvtdvat ra avrov, 72 a), or any ‘ parts of
itself \ I have supposed that it takes its meaning from ndoyov SiarcAct
ndvra: rtdv avrov (naOrj^drcvv) , * its own passive affections which make up all
that it is conscious of. Martin read <f>v<nv and translated : ‘ il ne lui a pas
Itt donni de raisonner sur ce qui le concerne (Xoytaaadai n rtdv avrov) d’aprds
la connaissance de sa propre nature {Kandoim <j>v<nv) * ; but, as Tr. observes,
Karihelv <f>voiv cannot mean ‘ observe its own nature *.

302

THE IRRIGATION SYSTEM

77c. revolving within and about itself, rejecting motion from
without and exercising motion of its own. Therefore it
lives, indeed, and is no other than a living creature, but it
stands still, fixed and rooted, because it is denied self-
motion.1

Plants are regarded as sensitive to the group of qualities discussed
at 61c ff. as * common affections of the whole body * and attended
by pleasure and pain (64A). They feel heat and cold, and some
at least shrink from contact with hard or heavy or rough objects.
The pleasurable or painful character of such contacts is supposed
to be accompanied with some faint degree of desire to seek or shun.
Galen observes that plants have the power of distinguishing and
drawing to themselves congenial substances on which they feed,
while rejecting those which are harmful. But plants have no
perceptions such as we receive through the special organs of sense
enumerated, with the corresponding qualities, from 65B onwards.
Nor have they anything corresponding to the rational revolutions
of the immortal soul seated in the brain of man. It may be for
this reason that they are excluded from Plato's scheme of trans-
migration, though they were admitted to that of Empedocles.

77C-E. Irrigation system to convey nourishment. The two principal
veins

The coming sections are obscure, at first reading, because Plato
seems to be describing simultaneously digestion, the circulation of
the blood, respiration and transpiration (through the skin), and
even the transmission of sense-impressions. Some of these processes
are dealt with very cursorily, and the anatomical connections
between the various organs are left extremely vague.

The treatment of all these topics becomes more intelligible when
we realise that Plato was partly occupied with a problem of
hydraulics (vdQaycoyla), which is to be explained by the inter-
connection of these systems. The whole body is nourished by the
blood ; blood is formed out of food in the belly and this is near
the lower end of the trunk ; how does the blood rise to the head
and get distributed all over the body ? Plato, like his contem-
poraries, drew no distinction between arteries and veins ; nor had
he any conception that muscular action of the heart had anything
to do with the movement of the blood. The heart, in fact, is not

1 Not all self-motion, since it has soul which is by definition the self-moving
thing. Only motion from place to place is meant. As Galen remarks
(Comment, p. 12, Daremberg), plants can grow upwards and downwards and
attract nourishment.

303

THE IRRIGATION SYSTEM 77c-e

named in this section from beginning to end ; the lung only once,
as the destination of the windpipe.1 The body is like a house
with a cistern on the ground floor. If all unconscious and reflex
muscular action is completely ignored, how is the water to be
driven up a pipe to the attics, so that it may descend again to all
the rooms ? The reader will be well advised to forget all he knows
about the anatomy and functions of heart and lungs, veins and
arteries, and set out in this state of ignorance, hardly exceeding
Plato's own, to follow his solution of the mechanical problem, step
by step.

From this standpoint it becomes clear why the discussion falls
into the following sections. Plato first describes the two main
conduits of the irrigation system (77C-E). We are then told how
the blood is driven through these channels. The necessary force is
supplied by the respiratory apparatus, which is here treated as if
the pumping of blood were its main function (77E-79A). Respira-
tion itself is explained as a mechanical operation. The motion is
kept up by the natural movement of the internal fire towards its
own kind, and by the circular thrust so imparted to the air (79A-E).
There follows a digression on other examples of the circular thrust
operating mechanically in lifeless things (79E-80C). We then learn
how the action of fire in the belly converts the food and drink into
blood, which this machinery drives through the veins to repair the
wastage in all parts of the body (8od-8ib). A final paragraph
explains why growth occurs in youth, and later decay and old age
set in, ending in natural death (8ib-e).

The gods, having provided in plants the substances required to
nourish all our tissues, like by like, have now to fashion an irrigation
system, as a gardener cuts channels to carry water from the source
of supply to every quarter of his garden. Plato describes only the
two main vertical conduits.

77c. Now when the higher powers had planted all these kinds as
sustenance for our nature, weaker than their own, they
made throughout the body itself a system of conduits, cut
like runnels in a garden, so that it might be, as it were,
watered by an incoming stream. First they cut as covered

D. conduits, under the juncture of skin and flesh, two veins
along the back corresponding to the twofold form of the
body, with a right side and a left. These they brought
down alongside the spine, enclosing between them also the
generative marrow, in order that this might be kept in full

1 78c. The lung's office, * to dispense breath to the body ' (as distinct
from its cooling function, 70c), is mentioned for the first time at 84D.

304

THE TWO PRINCIPAL VEINS

77D. vigour and also that, by running downhill, the current might
flow easily thence to the other parts and make the irrigation
uniform.

Next, they split up these veins in the region of the head

e. and plaited the ends so as to pass across one another in
opposite directions, slanting those from the right towards
the left side of the body and those from the left towards the
right side. This was partly to provide the head with a bond
helping the skin to connect it with the body, since there
were no sinews holding it all round at the crown,1 and further
in order that the body as a whole might be informed of the
effect of sense-perceptions coming from the members on
either side.2

Aristotle,3 after remarking on the extreme difficulty of tracing
the course of the veins, reviews the statements of earlier writers,
including Diogenes of Apollonia (frag. 6) and Polybus ( de nat. horn.).
Polybus traces four pairs of veins from the head downwards.
Diogenes speaks of the two principal veins ‘ extending through the
belly along the backbone, one to right, one to left ; either one to
the leg on its own side, and upwards to the head, past the collar-
bones, through the throat \ Plato's two veins appear to be these,
which have been identified with the Hepatitis (right) and the
Splenitis (left). Our knowledge of Diodes' doctrine about the
blood-vessels is imperfect.4 * He regarded the heart as the source
of the blood, and the aorta and the f hollow vein ' as the two
principal channels. Here he agrees with the older Hippocratic
treatise On Flesh , which declares that * there are two hollow
veins from the heart, one called arteria, the other the “ hollow
vein ” attached to the heart. The heart, where the hollow vein
is, has the greatest amount of heat, and it dispenses the pneuma 9
(chap. 5). Diodes also described the course of some of the minor
veins.

Plato does not attempt to fill in even the barest outline of the
circulatory system ; otherwise he must have mentioned the heart,
which he called earlier ‘ the knot of the veins and the fountain of
the blood which moves impetuously round through all the members '
(70B). This phrase suggests that the two dorsal veins here men-

1 The sinews stopped short at the base of the skull (75D).

2 We learnt at 70B that the blood, rushing outwards from the heart when
anger boils up, conveys to all sentient parts a message from the brain, which
has been warned by perception of some injury needing retaliation.

8 Hist. Anim. iii, 2. See D’Arcy Thompson’s notes in the Oxf. Trans,
and Tr.’s notes.

4 See Wellmann, Frag. d. gr. Aerzte 89 ff.

305

RESPIRATION

77e-79a

tioned must meet in the heart, as Aristotle 1 also held, adding that
the heart can be regarded as part of them, since they extend both
above and below it. We may add that one vein at least must
extend below the heart to the belly, whence the blood formed
there has to be raised to the head.2 Thence a system of smaller
conduits carries the blood * downhill ' to water all the rest of the
body and to convey to all the members the sense-impressions
from the head. The passage is most easily understood, not as a
grossly inadequate account of the circulatory system, but rather
as formulating the mechanical problem of hydraulics. The blood
can easily flow downhill through branches in all directions. But
some force is needed to raise the blood from the belly to the top
of the hill.

77E-79A. Respiration as the driving power of the irrigation
system

The gods, accordingly, now provide for the carrying or driving
of the water (' vdqaycoyia ) along the conduits. The power is provided
by the respiratory system, next to be described. Respiration, as
Plato has already said, has other purposes. The lung was designed
to receive breath and drink in order that it might cool the heart
and so provide refreshment (70c). This function is barely mentioned
here in a single word.3 The only purpose dwelt upon is the
mechanical one of keeping in movement the internal fire which is
to digest food in the belly and raise the blood so formed from the
belly into the veins. In this process the lung itself appears to
play as little a part as the heart plays in circulation. The mechan-
ism is to consist of currents of air and fire. It is first remarked
that we may take it as possible for fire and air to penetrate the
skin and flesh, because their fine particles will make their way
through the coarser materials. There can thus be transpiration
through the skin, as well as respiration through mouth and nose.
This is essential to the process called the * circular thrust \

That the body transpires through pores all over the surface of
the skin was taught by Empedocles :

‘ Thus do all things draw breath and breathe it out again.
All have bloodless pipes of flesh spread over the surface of the
body, and at their mouths the outermost surface of the skin is
perforated all over with pores closely packed together, so as to

1 Hist . Anim. iii, 3, 513a, 15. See Thompson’s note.

2 Diodes spoke of ‘ veins which receive the nourishment from the belly \
Galen viii, 187.

8 avai/wxofUvy, 78E. Aristotle held that cooling of the internal heat is the
proper function of respiration.

306

RESPIRATION

keep in the blood while an easy passage is cut for the air to pass
through. Thus whenever the thin blood rushes back from these,
the bubbling air rushes in with an impetuous surge ; and when
the blood leaps back again, the air is breathed out once more '
(frag. ioo).

Empedocles' doctrine was reproduced by Philistion,1 who taught
that the purpose of respiration is to cool the natural heat of the
body and that health depends on the unimpeded passage of the
breath, not only through mouth and nostrils, but all over the body.
Diodes also held that the body has a natural heat residing in the
blood, which conveys life and movement in the veins throughout
the whole frame. His account of the cycle of respiration was the
same as Plato's : inhalation (or exhalation) through mouth and
nose coincides with exhalation (or inhalation) through the pores.
In opposition to the Coan school, which held that the breath first
reaches the brain and is then dispersed throughout the rest of the
body,2 the Sicilians taught that the heart is the central seat of the
breath of life or breath-soul (\pv%ixdv nvevjua), which passes thence
to the rest of the body through the veins and is the power that
moves the limbs.3 This breath also conveys sense-perception.
It is in perpetual motion, circulating through the veins together
with the blood. According to this doctrine, then, the breath and
the blood travel together through the same channels : respiration
and the circulation of the blood are a single process ; and since the
blood actually consists of the digested food, the same system
conveys to all parts of the body their proper nourishment.

77E. They then proceeded to provide for the water-carrying in a
78. manner now to be described, which we shall the more easily
grasp if we first agree upon the following principle. All
bodies composed of smaller particles are impervious to larger
particles, but those consisting of the larger are not impervious
to the smaller ; and of all the kinds fire has the smallest
particles and consequently passes through water, earth, and
air and all bodies composed of these, and nothing is im-
pervious to it. This principle must be applied to our

1 See O. Gilbert, M eteovologischen Theorien, pp. 344 ff. Wellmann, Frag,
d. Gy. Aerzte 70.

2 [Hippocr.] 7 r. Up. vova. 16. This treatise is held to be earlier than Diodes.
Wellmann, op. cit. 77 ff.

8 At Crat. 399D Plato connects tf/vx'q with to ava*ft fyov, as having the function
of breathing and cooling the body; and again with </>vaiv d^ctv ( <j>va^xn )>
because it moves the body. Cf. Diodes, frag. 17, and Anon., Lond. xxxi, 54 :
the soul, being pneuma, is light and the whole body is carried (/Jaarajerat) by
the soul.

307

THE WEEL OR FISH-TRAP

77e-79a

78. belly 1 : when food and drink fall into it, it keeps them in ;

3. but it cannot keep in the air we breathe and fire, since their
particles are smaller than those of its own structure.

The Weel or Fish-trap . — The god now avails himself of this
penetrating capacity of fire and air, to provide a mechanism supply-
ing the power to drive the blood-food upwards into the veins from
the belly. This mechanism is the respiratory system. It consists
of currents of air and fire, and of nothing else. The currents pass
in and out of the body by certain routes which, in a modern book,
would be represented by lines in a diagram. In Plato's dialogues
diagrams are not used 2 ; accordingly, the pattern formed by the
courses of the currents is visualised as the outline of a well-known
object, the fisherman's weel. The god is said to construct a net-
work of this shape and then fix it in and around the ‘ living creature
he had moulded '. The next sentences, describing the fashioning
of the weel, are to be understood as if Plato were drawing a picture,
the lines of which stand for the routes followed by currents of air
and fire.

78B. The god accordingly made use of these (air and fire) for the
water-carrying from the belly to the veins, weaving out of
air and fire a network, after the fashion of a fisherman's
weel. This had a pair of funnels (iyxvQXia) at the entrance,
one of which again he made fork into two ; and from these
funnels he stretched, as it were, reeds 3 all round throughout
the whole length to the extremities of the network. The

c. whole interior of the basket he composed of fire, while the
funnels and the main vessel were of air.

In order to reconstruct Plato's diagram of the currents, it is
necessary first to be clear about the construction of the fish-trap
or weel (xvqxoq, Lat. nassa) and the meaning of eyxvQXtov , above
translated * funnel '.

The weel, like our lobster-pot, is a basket (n Xoxavov), with a wide
opening at the top. Stretching down inside and below the opening

1 Here and below xoiXia probably means, not the whole hollow of the trunk,
but the belly, where fire reduces meat and drink to blood (8od). Plato is
specially thinking of this as the first operation, which must be performed
before the blood is driven upwards (see 78E-79A). It is of course also true
that fire and air can penetrate the skin anywhere.

* Thus, even in the Meno, where a difficult problem of geometrical construc-
tion is discussed, the lines and areas are described but not indicated by
letters, as they would be in Aristotle.

* The nassa was sometimes made of reeds (iunci, Plin., N. H. xxi, 114).
Hesych. xvpros • ayyctov o^otvoiSes, ot aXtcts xP&vrai‘ Oppian, Halieut. iv,
53-

308

THE WEEL OR FISH-TRAP

there is passage in the form of a truncated cone, narrowing down
to a hole just large enough to admit the fish. The principle is the
same as that of the cheap inkpots in which the glass forming the
wall is bent over and downwards to form a funnel which prevents
the ink from escaping if the pot is upset.1 The construction of
the nassa is precisely described by Silius Italicus, to illustrate how
the Romans were lured into the narrowing path between the cliffs
and the shore of the Trasimene lake :

* So by the crystal waves the cunning fisherman weaves osiers
to make his light weel (nassa) with its wide mouth. The inner
part (interiora) he ties with special care ; he brings the ends
together, making them taper gradually along the middle of the
belly (aluum) and fastens them together. By the trick of this
contracted aperture he keeps the fish drawn from the sea from
making its way back, though it found the way in easy/ 2
Such being the weel, what is the eyxvqrtov ? Some commentators
have been misled by Galen into supposing that iyxvqxtov means a
smaller weel inside a larger one. He wisely recommends those who
live near the sea to go and look at the fisherman’s weel. Midlanders
will at any rate have seen the kind of basket called rdXaqog.^ If
they will imagine this basket without the perforations at the base
and with its mouth at the top opened wide, they will have a sufficient
picture. Evidently he himself had seen a weel, and it is, he adds,
a single basket (nXeypta anXovv) ; but he now tells us to imagine that
it contains another small basket of the same shape, standing on
the bottom of the big one, but with its opening much lower down.
We are then to imagine yet another small basket inside the big one.
These small baskets are, he says, what Plato means by iyxvqna.

Galen can be convicted, out of his own mouth, of not knowing
the meaning of iyxvqriov. Plato speaks of it as being a part of
the whole weel, the other part being the main vessel or belly (xvrog,
Silius’ aluus). That is to say, it is the name of an actual part of
an actual thing, the weel in common use. But Galen himself tells

1 Apostolides, La Piche en Grice (Athens, 1907), p. 51 (cited by A. W. Mair,
Oppian, Loeb Library, 1928, p. xlvi), writes : ' La piche au moyen de nasses
est bien simple, mais toutes n’ont pas la mime forme : elle change suivant les
poissons qu’on cherche a capturer. Ce sont des paniers, avec un orifice pricidi
d’une entrie conique , par laquelle, une fois entris, les poissons ne peuvent plus
sortir.’

2 Cf. Lucian, Merc. Cond. 3, twv Kvprcov to dSi4^o8ov etcroodev em axoXijs aAAa
fxrj evbodcv 4k tov fivyov.

8 raXapos commonly means a basket shaped like a wastepaper basket with
a mouth much wider than its base. This is evidently not the sort of basket
Galen means, which Daremberg understood as the basket used for making
cream-cheese out of curdled milk (Horn., Od. i, 247).

309

THE WEEL OR FISH-TRAP 77e-79a

us that the weel is a ‘ single basket ', which does not contain these
imaginary smaller baskets.1 There existed, therefore, nothing to
bear the name iyxvgrcov in the sense of ‘ a small weel inside a large
one \ If a Byzantine scholiast had glossed the word brayiov as
* a small tomb inside a larger one ', we might be suspicious ; if he
added ‘ though no such tombs actually exist ', we should know he
was romancing, because there are no current names for non-existent
parts of well-known objects. Plato uses iyxvQTiov as a current
name, not as one which he had invented for an imaginary addition
to the structure of the actual weel. The gloss 2 describing iyxvgna
as * plaited structures inside a weel ' is vague ; but it at least
recognises that the name belongs to some existent part of a weel ;
and it also states that Plato applied the word to the pharynx, not
to the cavities of the lungs and the belly, to which Galen's imaginary
baskets are supposed to correspond.

The conclusion is that eyxvqnov means the essential feature
differentiating the weel from other baskets, namely the cone-shaped
funnel. The ‘ inner part ' of this, as Silius says, is made by bending
inwards and downwards the ends of the osiers or reeds forming the
wall of the belly. Their points, set round the small opening at the
bottom of the funnel, repulse the trapped fish if he tries to escape.3
There are two ways in which the funnel can be formed. The
simplest is illustrated in the common lobster-pot, which is roughly
spherical, the upright osiers of the sides being bent round, so that
the funnel is sunk within the main outline of the basket. In another
type, illustrated here, the funnel projects above the belly, like the
wicker funnel which is said to have been affixed to the voting-urn,
so as to admit only the ballot.4 In either case the funnel is, as

1 It is for this reason that Galen says that, even if you have seen a weel,
it is hard to understand Plato’s meaning.

2 Lex. Plat . eyKvpTLa’ ra iv rots Kvprois 4w<f>aaofiaTa' XPVT al ^ Tt/xaia)
€7 rl t ijs <j>apvyyos r fj Aefei (repeated by Suidas).

8 Oppian, Halieut. iv, 47, describes how the fish, trapped in the ' backward -
plaited * weel (cV Kvprotot 7raAt/x7rAeK,eeaaiv) , tries to escape. * He dreads the
sharp rushes (oxolvovs) which bristle around the entrance and as he comes
against them wound his eyes, even as if they were warders of the gate ' (trans.
Mair).

* Schol. Ar., Eq. 1150 : ktj/jlos . . . tt\ iy\ia rt ck axoivlatv yiv6p.*vov ofioiov
rjdp,q>, ras nop<f>vpas Xafifidvovoiv. Soph., frag. 5°4> Pearson: K-qp.oZoi ttXcktoIs
7rop<l>vpwv (Herw., irop<j>vpas codd.) drjpq. (Tucker, <f>detpci codd.) ydvos> Opp.,
Halieut . 5, 598 : Trop^vpai are caught with KvprlSes rjfiaiai raAapoi? 0/10 fat.
Ar., H.A. 534 a, 20 : eels are caught in earthen pickle-pots into the
mouth of which the so-called r)$p,os has been inserted. tajii6s meant also the
funnel at the top of the Kabos or KabiaKos (balloting urn) : Ar., Vesp. 754,
Kamcrral’qv ini rots tajfiois i/rq</>i£onivu)v 6 rcAevraTos Jebb in Pearson, Soph.,
Frag., vol. ii, 154, where most of this evidence is collected). Hesych.,

310

THE WEEL OR FISH-TRAP

Plato says, ' at the entrance ' (xaxa rrjv eiooSov), whereas Galen’s
imaginary small baskets are not at the entrance ; one of them is
at the bottom of the whole vessel with its opening a good way
below the mouth of the main basket. This alone shows that Galen

was wrong to imagine that the iyxvqna stood for the cavities of the
belly and the lungs.1 The two funnels, as originally constructed,
answer to the two passages for food and breath, through mouth
and nose, which terminate in the throat, one leading into the

... to imridefievov rfj tojv Bikclotqjv vBpiq vcTrXeypL&ov xroj/xa 7rapofiOLOV
(funnel.) The accompanying sketch is copied from an eighteenth-century
map of Cambridgeshire in my possession, showing a man drawing out of
shallow water a round wicker weel, surmounted by a funnel. A boy has
thrust his hand inside and pulled out a captured eel. In the Ethnological
Museum at Cambridge there is a string of plaited weels of this pattern from
Africa. The device is no doubt world -wide. The other illustration is ‘ com-
posed from two Roman mosaics, in both of which it is represented as lying
half-buried among sedges in a shallow piece of water \ Rich, Diet, of Rom.
and Gk. Antiq., s.v. nassa (cf. Daremberg and Saglio, s.v. colum). Naturally
neither picture attempts to show the narrowing projection of the cone inside
the vessel. This is invisible, if the texture of the outer wall is close. It can
be seen in the African weels above mentioned.

1 Stall baum rightly understood that they correspond rather to the passages
into the lungs and the belly, though other features of his interpretation seem
unsatisfactory. So L. and S. * iyKvpr ia, passages into the Kvpros or creel or
fish-trap, to which PI. compares the throat \ The reference to Galen (added
in the last edition) is, however, likely to mislead. Rivaud translates iyKvpria,
‘ tuyaux \

THE WEEL OR FISH-TRAP 77e-79a

oesophagus, the other into the trachea. Like the fisherman in
Silius, the god constructs the funnels first. He makes a pair of
them, instead of the usual one. He further makes one of them
fork into two. This probably means the division of the breath-
funnel into two entrances, through mouth and nose ; for we can
breathe, as well as swallow our food, through the mouth. As all
agree, Plato's comparison is a somewhat clumsy substitute for a
diagram.

The god then proceeds to construct the main vessel (xvrog) of
the basket by ‘ stretching from the funnels reeds all round through-
out the whole length to the extremities of the network \1 In the
Roman nassa illustrated above the reeds supporting the funnel
extend all along the weel and are brought together at the base.
The shape is now complete. We are finally reminded that the
entire structure consists only of fire and air. ‘ The whole interior ’
(ra evdov obzavra ) is of fire, while ‘ the funnels and the main vessel
are of air \ That is to say, all the lines in the diagram represent
channels or currents of air. The space within the figure is for the
present to be imagined as occupied by fire. As we hear later, ‘ in
every living creature the inner parts about the blood and veins are
the hottest, like a well-spring of fire which it has within itself. It
was, indeed, this that we likened to the network of our weel, when
we said that the whole extent of the central part was woven of
fire, while the parts on the outside were of air ' (79D).

This structure is now applied to the living creature, the funnels
being let into mouth and nose, while the outline of the main vessel
encloses the trunk on the outside. The funnels require a certain
amount of adjustment and adaptation. At their lower ends they
are prolonged to form the trachea and the gullet. At the upper
end the breath-funnel has already been divided into two outlets,
mouth and nose, in order that we may be able to breathe while
the mouth is occupied with eating.

78c. This structure he took and set it about the living creature
he had moulded, in this way. The part consisting of the
funnels he let into the mouth ; and this part being twofold,

1 This sentence is ambiguous. The reeds were understood by Galen as
representing arteries and veins extending from the belly and lung (Galen’s
cyKvprta ;) outwards in all directions to the surface of the body and containing
the * rays of fire * mentioned at 78D. But there is no corresponding structure
in the fish-trap. kvkXio 8ca iravros can mean ' stretching all round along the
whole surface * ; cf. Albinus, Didasc. xiv : orvv^ Stj avrrjv (ttjv ifivx'rjv ) to ucofxa
rod Kouftov kvkXco 81A rravros nepUx^iv koX TrcpiKaXwjtai, — Tim. 36E, kvkXco tc
avrov e£u)dcv irepiKaXvipacra. At 74 A, 3, 8ta rravros rod kvtovs means ‘ along the
whole extent (length) of the trunk ’.

312

THE WEEL OR FISH-TRAP

78c. he prolonged 1 one of the funnels downwards by way of the
windpipes into the lung, and the other alongside the wind-
pipes into the belly. The first funnel he divided into two
parts, to both of which he gave a common outlet by the
channels of the nose,2 so that when the other passage was
not working by way of the mouth, all its currents also might
be replenished from this one.

The funnels having been adjusted, the main vessel is now fitted
round the trunk on the outside. Galen understands the vessel to
represent the skin and the layer of air in contact with it. If we
omit the skin (which does not sink into the body), we can accept
his view, with the qualification that the outlines of the vessel really
mark the limits of a coat of air enveloping the trunk.

78D. The rest, the main vessel of the weel, he attached round all
the hollow part of the body. And all this he caused at
one moment to flow together inwards on to the funnels
— softly, because they are made of air ; while at another

1 KadrjKcv, like KaBUvai 7 rwycova, ‘ to let your beard grow long \ and KadfjKavZit
77D, 3. It should be remembered that the lung contains no blood (70c). Its
passages are filled with air and fire.

* The breath-funnel was originally forked into two passages, the mouth
and the nose (78B). I understand the present operation to be the splitting
of the nose-passage into the two nostrils (so A.-H.). This completes the
system of passages.

313

THE WEEL OR FISH-TRAP 77e-79a

78D. moment the funnels flow back, and the network sinks in
through the body — for this is porous — and then out again ;
meanwhile the rays of fire stretched through inside follow the
movement of the air in either direction. This process was

E. to continue without ceasing so long as the mortal creature
holds together ; it is indeed the process which the name-
giver entitled inhalation and exhalation.

This account is intelligible if we remember that the whole outline
of the structure — funnels and main vessel — consists of air. When
we breathe in through the mouth, the currents of air converging
along all sides of the body flow together (ovqqeZv) inwards upon
the * funnels i.e. the columns of air defined by the mouth and
nose and the gullet and trachea. This happens 1 softly ’, without
shock, because it is only air that is pouring in upon air. When we
breathe out, the columns of air flow back again towards, and out
through, the mouth and nose. The external currents are thus
reversed by the pressure of the breath, and the external air so
displaced (represented by the outline of the main vessel) sinks into
the body through its pores, to fill the space inside that would
otherwise be left empty by the air we have breathed out. The
process is then reversed again. The air which has entered through
the pores passes out again by the same route and sets the external
current moving again towards the mouth. Why this reversal
takes place will be explained presently. Here it is only added that
the 4 rays of fire ' stretched through the interior of the structure
follow the movement of the air in either direction. The fire which
occupies the interior is described as separated into rays because it
passes along the same channels or pores as the air. In a diagram
these might be roughly indicated by lines radiating outwards in
all directions from the heart. The statement refers specially to
the process which Galen describes as transpiration ( dicmvorj ) ; and
the channels in question appear to be the veins (79D), or rather
still finer passages, at the ends of the veins, which will keep in the
blood, but just permit fire and air to get through.

The process of respiration is now to be connected with digestion
and with the conveyance of nourishment in the blood through the
irrigation system. Apart from the mention of the cooling effect
which the lung has upon the heart (as we were told earlier, 70c)
the emphasis falls on the mechanical use of respiration, as the force
which maintains two processes : (1) by keeping the internal fire
constantly in motion, it enables the sharp fire-particles to penetrate
and cut up the food and drink which have reached the belly ; and
then (2) to carry the blood so formed along with its own movement

314

THE CIRCULAR THRUST

through the veins. This theory is in substantial agreement with
Diodes.1

78E. All this that our body does and has done to it results in its
being nourished and keeping alive as it is watered and
cooled ; for every time that, as the breath passes in and out,
the fire within connected with it follows its movement and
in its perpetual rise and fall passes in through the belly and
79. takes hold upon the meat and drink, it dissolves them and,
dividing them up small, drives them through the outlets in
the direction of its advance, discharging them into the veins,
as water from a spring into runnels, and making the currents
of the veins flow through the body as through an aqueduct.

79A-E. Respiration maintained, by the circular thrust

We have seen that the whole process of ' watering ’ and feeding
the body is kept up by the rhythmical movement of respiration.
Plato next attempts to show that respiration itself is maintained
mechanically. He represents it as going on without any impulse
from muscular contraction or from the intervention of the will.
He invokes the principle of the ‘ circular thrust ’ (TZEQLcoaig), which
is now explained.

The principle, being purely mechanical, has wider applications
mentioned in the later paragraphs, e.g. to medical cupping-instru-
ments and projectiles. As Aristotle's discussion of the circular
thrust shows, certain problems had arisen from the denial of the
void. Parmenides had denied the existence of any void spaces
inside the universe, and he had rejected the possibility of any
motion. The two propositions were connected, since it was held
that nothing could move without some empty place to move into.
Accordingly, when the Atomists reasserted the void, they were
restoring the possibility of motion. Others, however, such as
Empedocles and Anaxagoras, believed motion to be possible while
still denying that there was any real vacancy.

The projectile presented two problems. How could it, or any
other body, move at all, if there was no vacant room to move
into ? And how could a missile continue in motion after it had
left the hand which hurled it ? Both were solved by the theory
of the circular thrust. The moving body, since it does not advance
into vacancy, displaces the air in front of it. At the same time
the air must be closing up the vacancy that would otherwise be
left behind the projectile. Thus a stream of air is formed, pouring
from the front of the moving body to its rear. The force of this

1 Wellmann, op. cit. 89.

315

THE CIRCULAR THRUST

79a-b

current is now invoked to account for the body continuing in motion
after it has lost contact with the source of impulsion. The air
pouring round to the rear is supposed to push the projectile farther
on its way, until the force of the original impulse somehow dies out.

The application of this principle to the process of respiration is
stated first. Our breath is a sort of projectile impelled out of our
mouths. Since it does not issue into empty space, it must
dislodge the air near the mouth. At the same time it must
leave no empty space inside us. Apparently it was assumed that
the contraction of the body in expiration did not suffice to close up
the vacancy inside or to provide space outside for the dislodged au-
to move into. Hence the theory that the expelled breath is replaced
by a current which enters the body through pores in the flesh.

79A. But let us once more consider the means whereby the effect
of respiration has come to take place as it now does. It
was in this way. Since there is no vacancy into which any

b. moving body could make its way, and the air we breathe
does move out from us, the consequence is at once plain to
anyone : it does not go out into vacancy, but thrusts the
neighbouring air out of its place. What is so thrust keeps
on displacing its neighbours successively, and in the course
of this compulsion the air is all driven round and enters the
place whence the breath came out, refilling it as it follows
the breath. All this goes on simultaneously,1 as when a

c. wheel is driven round, because there is no vacancy. Con-
sequently, the region of the chest and lung, in the act of
discharging the breath outwards, is filled again by the air
surrounding the body, as it is driven round and makes its
way inwards through the porous flesh. Again, when the air
is turned back and is moving outwards through the body,
it thrusts round the respiration inwards by way of the
passage of mouth and nostrils.

The last sentence reminds us that our breath does not, after all,
behave quite like a projectile, which continues on the same course
so long as the circular thrust goes on and the impulse has not died
away. We do not, in fact, go on breathing outwards indefinitely,
although the circular thrust should make this possible. After
quite a short time we begin to inhale again, and the current must
flow the other way. There is nothing yet to explain this reversal.
An explanation is now sought by considering the original source
of the impulse which must be supposed to have started the whole

1 Not leaving any interval of time during which there would be a space
left unfilled.

316

THE CIRCULAR THRUST

process. This is found in the fire contained in all living things,
as a sort of well-spring of movement. The fire has its own natural
tendency to move towards its like. There is fire in the warm
breath we exhale, and this carries the air with it outwards through
the mouth and nose towards the main body of fire all round the
universe. When the breath gets outside it encounters colder air,
and the fire in it will presumably continue its journey and pass out
of the expelled air. So the breath is cooled outside. Meanwhile
the dislodged air is pouring round, by the circular thrust, into the
body through the pores. It reaches the internal fire and is heated
thereby.

We might now expect that this freshly heated air would travel
out through mouth and nostrils and keep up a continual process of
exhalation. The breath would thus behave like the projectile,
which is precisely the result we are seeking to avoid. At this
point the explanation becomes obscure, because it is tacitly assumed
that the air which comes in through the pores must also go out
through the pores and not join the current passing out through
the mouth.1 Perhaps the assumption is tacit because it seems so
improbable. Once it is made, the reversal can be explained. The
air which has come in through the pores, having now been heated
by the fire inside, will pass out again through the pores to seek its
like. This will reverse the circular thrust and drive the cooled air
near the mouth back into the body in inhalation.

79c. We must suppose that the starting of this process is to be
explained as follows. In every living creature the inner

d. parts about the blood and veins are the hottest, like a
fountain of fire which it has within itself.2 It was, indeed,
this that we likened to the network of our weel, when we said
that the whole extent of the central part was woven of fire,
while all the parts on the outside were of air. Now we must
agree that the hot naturally moves outwards towards its
kindred in its own region ; and that, since there are two ways
through, one leading out by way of the body, while the other
is by way of mouth and nostrils, whenever the hot makes for

E. the air in one quarter, it gives a thrust round to the air in
the other quarter ; and the air so thrust round, falling into
the fire, is heated, while the air which passes out is cooled.

1 See Tr.’s note, p. 562.

2 Presumably the principal seat of this fountain of fire in blood and veins
is the heart, ‘ the knot of the veins and the fountain of blood ', whose throbbing
when it swells with passion is ‘ caused by fire ' (70A-C). See Wellmann’s
reconstruction of Diodes’ doctrine, which has many points of contact with
Plato (Fragm. d. Gr. Aerzte 44 ff., and 219).

P.C. 317 Y

THE CIRCULAR THRUST

79a-e

This last sentence applies equally to both routes. Whether the
air enters by the mouth or through the pores, it alike reaches the
central source of heat and is warmed there. And, whichever way
it goes out, it is cooled when it gets outside. The obscurity lies in
the next statement, because the assumption that air must go out
by the same way that it came in is not openly made. This being
granted, the warmth of either lot of air will be constantly changing.
The air which comes in at either passage will be warmed when it
reaches the internal fire, and cooled again when it passes out, by
its own route, to the atmosphere outside. As soon as it has got
warm at the fire it will seek to pass out again towards the main
mass of fire and so reverse its direction and set up a thrust the other
way. If we now assume that inhalation (or exhalation) by one
route alternates with inhalation (or exhalation) by the other route,
there will be a rhythmical reversal of the current, comparable to a
wheel turning first one way, then the other.

79E. And as the warmth changes and the air which travels by
way of the one outlet 1 gets warmer, this warmer air is the
more inclined to take the reverse direction by that route,
moving towards its like, and gives a circular thrust to the
air which travels by the other passage. This again suffers
the same effect and reacts every time in the same way. So
it sets up, under the two impulses, a motion like that of a
wheel which swings now this way, now that, and thus it
gives rise to inhalation and exhalation.

Aristotle sums up the theory quite clearly. ' It is said (in the
Timaeus) that when the hot air issues from the mouth it pushes
the surrounding air, which being carried on enters the very place
whence the internal warmth issued, through the interstices of the
porous flesh ; and this reciprocal replacement is due to the fact
that vacuum cannot exist. But when it has become hot the air
passes out again by the same route, and pushes back inwards through
the mouth the air that had been discharged in a warm condition.
It is said that it is this action which goes on continuously when
the breath is taken in and let out ’ (De Resp. 472 b, 12, Oxf. trans.).

Aristotle rightly saw that this paragraph is concerned with the
question how the whole process of respiration can start and proceed
mechanically without involving volition. The new-born child does
not, in fact, begin to breathe deliberately. Plato probably did
not know that the midwife slapped the baby on the back to make

1 This must be the meaning of Kara, as at d, 7, Kara to o&fxa and c, 6, not
the air * near * or * about ' the outlet, if this means outside it, because expelled
air gets cooler, not hotter.

318

OTHER CASES OF CIRCULAR THRUST

it gasp ; and he supposed that the motion was mechanically started
by the natural impulse of the internal fire seeking its like.1 More-
over, breathing normally proceeds without any conscious effort.
Not having our conception of reflex muscular action, he thought
that the process is maintained throughout life by the blind action
of inanimate particles. It is true, as Galen remarks, that we can
voluntarily breathe faster or slower ; but it is also true that the
vast majority of the breaths we draw are not voluntary actions.
It therefore seemed necessary to supply a mechanical cause. Galen
comments on the fact that Plato makes the whole process involun-
tary and ignores muscular action (Hipp. et Plat. 715 ff.).

79E-80C. Digression . Other phenomena explained by the circular
thrust

Plato now interrupts his account of the irrigation system by a
short digression. The principle of the circular thrust will help to
explain a number of other phenomena, which had been falsely
supposed to involve the existence of void or of a power of ‘ attrac-
tion ' which Plato will not recognise.

79E. To this principle, moreover, we may look for the explanation
80. of what happens in the cases of medical instruments for
cupping, of the process of swallowing, and of projectiles,
which keep moving after their discharge either through the
air or along the ground.

Plutarch 2 explains how the circular thrust (or antiperistasis , as
it was called in Aristotle and later), eliminates the need of a void
in these various cases. (1) Some of the air inside the physician's
metal cup is converted into fire and so becomes fine enough to
escape through the pores of the metal and give a thrust to the air
outside, which is passed on till it exerts pressure on the flesh. So
the flesh rises inside the cup a,nd fills the space vacated by the fire
which has escaped. (2) Swallowing again involves reflex actions
which Plato ignores. And how can our food get down, if there is
no void to receive it ? 3 According to Plutarch, when the tongue
presses the food into the throat, the air underneath is squeezed out
towards the roof of the mouth and then helps to thrust the food

1 Aet. iv, 22, 1, ascribes to Empedocles an explanation of how the first
animal drew its first breath, as well as an account of respiration similar to
Plato's (Vors. Emped. A74).

* Plat. Qu. vii, 1004D ff.

8 Cf. one of the arguments for a void in Ar., Phys. iv, 6 (2136, 19) : * Every-
one supposes that growth is due to the void ; for our food is a body, and two
bodies cannot occupy the same place.’

319

CONCORD OF MUSICAL SOUNDS

79e-80c

down. (3) Projectiles are pushed forward in the same way. The
circular thrust accounts for the missile continuing its flight, or a
ball rolling along the ground, after it has left the hand.

The account of concord and dissonance in musical sounds, which
was promised earlier (67c), can now be given, evidently because
the circular thrust is somehow involved. Its obscurity is due to
the fact that here, as so often before, Plato reduces his explanation
of a highly complicated process to a single sentence. He does not
describe how the whole process takes place, but concentrates upon
the one most important feature. Unless we can reconstruct the
process as a whole, we cannot even understand what feature he is
explaining. He tells us that the agreeable concord of two sounds
of higher and lower pitch depends on the * likeness ' (optoiorrjg) of
certain motions in us. Assuming for the moment that ‘ likeness '
must mean correspondence , we may translate as follows :

80 A. This principle will also explain why sounds, which present
themselves as high or low in pitch according as they are
swift or slow, are as they travel sometimes inharmonious
because the motion they produce in us lacks correspondence,
sometimes concordant because there is correspondence. The
slower sounds, when they catch up with the motions of the
quicker sounds which arrived earlier, find these motions
drawing to an end and already having reached correspondence

b. with the motions imparted to them by the slower sounds on
their later arrival. In so doing, the slower sounds cause no
disturbance when they intrude a fresh motion ; rather by
joining on the beginning of a slower motion in correspondence
with the quicker which is now drawing to an end, they
produce a single combined effect in which high and low are
blended. Hence the pleasure they give to the unintelligent,
and the delight they afford to the wise, by the representation
of the divine harmony in mortal movements.

In reconstructing the acoustic theory here implied we must
avoid attributing to Plato modern theories of the transmission of
sound by vibrations or wave-motions.1 Nothing whatever is said

1 A.-H. (p. 300) rightly sees that, according to Plato, sound is transmitted
by a travelling body of air ; but he speaks of this body as ‘ vibrating ' and
communicating its vibrations to the ear . The theory of consonance he deduces
is, he says, ‘ entirely unsatisfactory *, for obvious reasons which he states.
Tr. (p. 576) speaks of vibrations propagated more or less rapidly through the
air to our tympanum, and of consonance as resulting from a uniform wave-
movement, compounded of two waves . He then declares that * the whole
theory is quite perverse \ again for obvious reasons.

320

CONCORD OF MUSICAL SOUNDS

about waves ; and if we introduce vibrations, we must be quite
clear what it is that vibrates.

' Sound we were told (67A), ' is the stroke (or shock) inflicted
by air on the brain and blood through the ears, and passed on to
the soul ; while the motion it causes, starting in the head and
ending in the region of the liver, is hearing (dx'o^)/ The swifter the
motion, the higher the pitch of the sound heard.1 The present
passage throws some more light on the two motions here dis-
tinguished. (1) One motion takes place in the air outside, between
the source of sound and the stroke inflicted directly on the brain
and blood (not the ear-drum, of which nothing is said : the ears
are treated as open channels). (2) The other motion is set up by
this stroke in the whole region of our bodies from brain to liver.
This motion is called * hearing ', though there is no sensation unless,
or until, the motion ‘ reaches the soul ’ (consciousness). These
two motions must be separately considered.

(1) The first, external, motion Plato calls the * sound ’ (cpOoyyog) —
a musical sound, not a mere noise. It starts with a blow inflicted
on the air by (say) the string of a lyre when it is plucked. It ends
with the blow inflicted by the disturbed air on the blood and brain.
There are two ways in which a shock might be transmitted. Each
particle of air in a chain from source to brain might pass on the
shock to its neighbour; the shock would then travel, not the
particles. This cannot be intended here, because there would then
be no circular thrust involved. Apparently we must suppose that
a portion, or portions, of air travel from source to brain.2 Such
a portion, as the context implies, is like other projectiles : its
advance sets up a circular thrust which keeps it in motion till the
impulse dies away.

It is clearly implied that the notes in question are not indefinitely
prolonged, like those of a flute. We are to imagine the simpler
case in which a string is plucked once for all. The question remains,
however, whether only one projectile is despatched, or Plato takes
account of the vibration of the string after the blow, and thinks

1 It was added that a sound is * similar ’ ( ofioiav ) or * regular * when it is
uniform and smooth ; irregular, when it is rough. The word ofioios is there
applied to a single sound. In the present passage it describes a relation
between two sounds, on which their concordance depends. Hence ‘ similar '
here must mean ‘ corresponding ' in some way.

2 So Beare, Gk. Theories of Elem. Cognition, 109 : * Not the rapidity of
vibrations in air, but that of the mere onward movement of air or portions
of air, seems to have been for Plato the producing cause of height in tones.
Moreover Plato, like his predecessors, believed that a definite portion of air
was projected forwards from the sonant body to the ear ; not that a mere
movement took place in the medium.'

321

CONCORD OF MUSICAL SOUNDS 79e-S0c

of each vibration as despatching a fresh projectile after the first,
until the string comes to rest. The sound yielded by a plucked
string does, in fact, go on humming for a short time and then dies
away. Plato recognises this where he speaks of the internal motion
(‘ hearing ') as * drawing to an end ' when it is overtaken by the
later sound. This might be due only to the behaviour of the
internal motion, continuing after receiving a single blow. But a
sustained flute note could not be explained by a single shock. It
is more likely that the vibrating string sends off a succession of
projectiles, which would account for the continued humming, in
contrast with the abrupt noise produced (say) when a book is
dropped on the floor.

It is not rash to assume that Plato was acquainted with the
acoustics of Archytas, who held a closely similar doctrine. There
could, argued Archytas, be no noise of any kind if one body did
not inflict a blow on another. All musical sounds are motions
started by a blow, and these motions follow one another at shorter
or longer intervals, making the sound heard correspondingly high
or low. If a string is tuned too high, we lower the tension, so
reducing the vibration and lowering the pitch. It follows that a
tone consists of parts, which must be related in numerical pro-
portion.1

We may, then, conjecture, with some probability, that Plato
conceived a succession of projectiles travelling from source to
brain, and inflicting a series of blows at lengthening intervals, for
each projectile will start with a slightly weaker impulse than the
one in front. Anyone curious about the propagation of musical
sound could easily observe that, when he plucked a string and
pulled it out of the straight, the string not merely returned to its
original position but went on vibrating till it settled to rest. Each
successive vibration can easily be imagined to discharge a fresh
portion of air after the first, and it would be obvious that the rate
of travelling would decrease as the string moved more slowly and
gave a feebler blow. At the other end there would be a series of
impacts at increasing intervals and each feebler than the last.2 * * *

1 Archytas ap. Eucl. Sect, canon. Introd. (See Frank, Platon u. d. soq.
Pyth. 174.) Diels-Kranz, Vors.6 4 7 A, 19a and b, 1.

2 Theon, p. 61, 11 (Hill.) — Vors.* 47A, 19a : Eudoxus and Archytas held
that the proportion of the consonances is expressible in numbers ; for they
too agreed that the proportions are in motions and that the quicker motion,
since it delivers blows in unbroken succession (are 7rXrjTrovaav <rv vcyts ) and
gives a sharper punch to the air, is acute (high) in pitch, while the slow

motion, being more sluggish, is grave (low). So also Plut., PI. Qu., ioo6b :

The air receives a blow from the thing which sets it moving and delivers a

blow, sharply if the shock has been violent, more softly if it was dull. Theon,

322

CONCORD OF MUSICAL SOUNDS

(2) We may now turn to the second or internal motion, which
these ‘ travelling sounds * start ' in us 1 with the first impact on
the brain and blood. It takes place in the region from brain to
liver. There is no ground for supposing that it involves the
travelling of any body from place to place ; the journey of the air
or ' sound ' has ended at the point of impact. The internal motion
may well be of a different kind.1 Plato does not describe it here,
beyond saying that it goes on for a time and then draws to an end,
and implying that it has somehow a rate of speed which may or
may not correspond with that of a second motion of the same kind.
This is the motion earlier called * hearing \ It is the physical side
of hearing, a bodily motion which (if strong enough) is accompanied
throughout by the sensation of hearing ; for we go on hearing the
sound from the moment of the first impact until the humming dies
away. The rate of this motion is determined by the speed of the
external sound and the frequency and force of the blows it delivers.
High and low pitch are strictly qualities of the sound as heard or
of the sensation, and correspond to the rate of the internal motion.
Hence Plato says that the swifter motions present themselves to us
((patvovrai) as higher in pitch.2 The nature of this internal motion
has been described at 64B as the transmission of shocks from one
particle to another in those parts of the body which, unlike bone
or hair, are soft and easily displaced. ‘ One particle passes on the
same effect to another, until they reach the consciousness and
report the quality of the agent/ This explanation, we were told,
applies especially to sight and hearing.

We have now constructed, without recourse to unreasonable
conjecture, a fairly complete picture of the external motion of the

Music . vi, p. 84, Dupuis : Adrastus ascribed to the Pythagoreans the theory
that all sound is a movement in the air caused by a blow. The pitch depends
on the speed of the movement ; the volume of sound, on its violence. The
speeds of the movements and their intensities may, or may not, be in accord-
ance with certain ratios. If they are not, the result is not properly a sound
or note (<j)96yyos), but a mere noise. Two sounds, struck on an instrument,
are concordant when they ring or chime together (c twtjx et) according to a
certain affinity and sympathy ( Kara riv a oIk€i6tt)tcl kox crvfnraOeiav) . When
they are struck simultaneously, a sweet and agreeable sound is heard from
the mixture.

1 Cf. the analysis of visual sensation at Theaet. 156c, where (1) the travelling
motion (<£opa), a quick motion passing between the eye and the object seen, is
distinguished from (2) the ' slow ' change (aXXotaxns ) subsequently occurring
in the organ and accompanied by sensation if it reaches the soul. There is
a corresponding dAAouoais in the object, which is said to ‘ become coloured \

2 Cf. Ar., de anim . 420a, 30 : The high in pitch moves the sense much in
little time, the low moves it little in much time. The quick is not the same
thing as the high, nor the slow as the low ; rather the motion (of the sense)
is ‘ high ’ because of the swiftness, ‘ low * because of the slowness.

323

CONCORD OF MUSICAL SOUNDS 79e-80c

travelling sound, terminating at the point of impact, and of the
internal motion of blood and brain, starting from that point and
lasting so long as the projectiles continue to arrive with sufficient
force. Plato has taken nearly all this process for granted, though
he has made clear that the two motions are distinct and that at
least one of them (the external, in fact) involves the circular thrust
characteristic of projectiles.

All that the present statement actually explains is the conditions
that must be satisfied if a high and a low note are to be combined
in a single harmonious affection of the hearing. Plato has already
said that the concord depends on ‘ the correspondence of the
internal motion \ This we shall now understand as meaning that
the succession of shocks in brain and blood set up by a rapid sound
outside must correspond with the shocks set up later by a slower
sound. ‘ Correspond ' evidently cannot mean that the rates are
the same,1 for that would result in unison, not concord. The
correspondence meant can only be analogous to that of the vibrations
of two strings, one of which vibrates (say) twice as rapidly as the
other, so that each longer vibration coincides with every other
shorter vibration and produces the concord of the octave.

The sentence describes how the blending takes place, on the
explicit assumption that the higher of the two external sounds
travels more rapidly than the lower and so reaches the point of
impact in front of it. The only difficulty lies in the phrase which
describes the earlier internal motion as ‘ having already reached
correspondence * with the later motion which starts when the slower
sound arrives. Why does it need to reach correspondence, if
correspondence existed from the outset between the two tuned
strings ? Something must have happened to disturb the corre-
spondence of the external sounds on the course of their journey.

The data which are certainly assumed are as follows, (i) The
two strings are plucked simultaneously ; otherwise there would be
no reason why the swifter sound should arrive first (tzqoteqcdv, a, 6).
(2) The two strings must be in tune with one another, so that the
proper concordant correspondence exists at the outset. (3) The
higher sound, despatched by more vigorous and frequent impulses,
travels the faster and arrives first. The lower follows more slowly
with longer intervals between its projectiles. Why is not the
original correspondence maintained throughout the whole process,
as the projectiles in each stream arrive at lengthening intervals
under the flagging impulse until they both cease ? The only

1 Martin (i, 393) and A.-H. understand ofiotav to mean the same rate, and
consequently dismiss the theory with a contempt which it would deserve if
Plato could have overlooked so glaring an objection,

324

CONCORD OF MUSICAL SOUNDS

possible reason must lie in a further assumption, namely that the
slower projectiles suffer on their journey a loss of speed more serious
than the loss suffered by the quicker ones. Their original impulses
were feebler and they are sooner tired, like a runner who at starting
takes one stride to his competitor’s two, but at the goal can only
manage something less than one. In this way the original corre-
spondence would be lost, and if the two notes are to sound con-
cordant, it must be restored.

The explanation indicates how this restoration occurs. It opens
with a description of the state of things existing at the moment
when the slower projectiles begin to arrive. The quicker ones
which arrived earlier have already set up the succession of internal
shocks in blood and brain. But they are now arriving with
diminished frequency, and the internal shocks are also slowing
down. The correspondence will be now restored if, at the moment
when the slower begin to arrive, the shocks have dropped to a rate
which makes them chime in once more with the flagging steps of
the new-comers. In our analogy of the race, the winner runs on
beyond the goal (the point of impact) with slower and slower steps.
Correspondence will be restored if, at the moment when the other
reaches the goal, the winner has dropped to the original proportion
of two steps to one.

The first sentence of the explanation is now clear :

4 The slower sounds (projectiles), on catching up (at the point
of impact), find the internal motions (shocks) set up by the
quicker sounds which arrived earlier drawing to an end (getting
continually slower) and by this time having reached a rate
corresponding to the internal motions imparted to them 1 by the
slower sounds on their later arrival.’

The next sentence describes the consequence — the way in which
the two sets of internal shocks, now in restored correspondence,
blend into a single harmonious affection. When the late-comers
catch up the earlier at the point of impact, they set going a second
internal motion. In thus ‘ intruding a fresh motion ’ they cause
no disturbance (or jangling, as it were), because the first internal
motion has already slowed down into correspondence. So the
beginning of the slower internal motion fits on to the remainder of
the first internal motion, overlapping it in due correspondence.

1 The later internal motion is regarded as affecting the earlier one when
it combines with it. The later sound brings in or interjects a fresh motion
on the top of the other (aXArjv ene^dXXovrcs) ,* but as the two motions
correspond and fit together (7rpoQdifiavr€s) , the second does not ' disturb * or
jangle the first,

325

CONCORD OF MUSICAL SOUNDS 79e-80c

The result is that the higher and lower sounds, both now audible
together, * combine in a single effect in which high and low are
blended \

The whole statement thus gives the conditions that must be
satisfied, if we are to hear a concordant blend of high and low notes.
All that is actually described is the state of things that must exist
when we begin to hear the concord, and while it lasts. The rest of
the process is taken for granted ; it is not even mentioned that the
circular thrust is relevant because the external sounds are projectiles.
The explanation above offered takes account of the distinction
clearly drawn between the external and internal motions. The
failure of other interpreters to produce any theory that is not
‘ entirely unsatisfactory ' or ‘ wholly perverse ' is partly the result
of ignoring this distinction. The theory as above reconstructed is
certainly open to objections ; but it is not obvious nonsense.

The digression now concludes with the mention of other pheno-
mena involving the circular thrust and also the principle (explained
at 57c) that the transformation of the primary bodies in their
conflict results in their constantly interchanging the regions towards
which they drift, like to like.

8ob. There are, moreover, the flowing of any stream of water,

C. the falling of thunderbolts, and the ‘ attraction ' of amber
and of the loadstone at which men wonder. There is no real
attraction in any of these cases. Proper investigation will
make it plain that there is no void ; that the things in
question thrust themselves round, one upon another ; that
the several kinds of body, as they are disintegrated or put
together, all interchange the regions towards which they
move ; and that the results which seem magical are due to
the complication of these effects.

Plato's chief concern seems to be to dispense with the alleged
requirement of a void and to eliminate the hypothesis of ‘ attrac-
tion ' 1 in all these cases by reducing all apparent pulling to pushing.
At 58E the flowing of molten metal along the ground was due to
the thrust of the neighbouring air. The flowing of water to its
own region, between air and earth, is sufficiently explained by its
natural tendency to seek its like. Here he may be thinking of
water spreading (like the molten metal) along the level ground.
It is not necessary to suppose that there must be empty space in

1 Wellmann, Frag. d. Gr. Aerzte i, 37, gives evidence for the controversy
about the occurrence of attraction in various phenomena. The author of
Ancient Medicine (xxii) appears to attribute to the tapering shape of the
cupping instrument its power to ‘ attract ' blood from the flesh.

326

DIGESTION. CIRCULATION OF BLOOD

front for it to move into. Its advance will displace the air in front
and this will, by the circular thrust, increase the pressure which
keeps it moving. Plutarch suggests other ways in which the
circular thrust might come in.

The downward fall of the thunderbolt calls for explanation as
being contrary to the natural tendency of hot things to move
upwards. Aristotle explains that clouds are densest on their upper
side. ‘ Just as the pips we squeeze between our fingers, though
heavy, often jump upwards, so these things are necessarily squeezed
out from the densest part of the cloud 1 {Meteor, ii, 9).

The so-called attraction of the loadstone is explained by Plutarch
as the pushing of the iron towards the stone by a circular thrust
set up by powerful effluences of air coming out of the stone. A
theory of this type is attributed to Empedocles {Vors. A89).

8od-8ie. How blood is formed by digestion and conveyed through
the veins . Growth and decay. Natural death

After this digression, we now return to the point at which the
account of respiration was complete. Plato has succeeded in
reducing this to a purely mechanical process, which will go on
throughout life, whether we are awake or sleeping, as an engine
will run so long as the furnace burns. Like a piston in this engine,
the fire inside us keeps up an oscillating motion as it accompanies
the breath ; and its action is now invoked to effect the work of
digestion — another process that goes on without the intervention
of consciousness. The food in the belly is penetrated by the
moving fire-particles and broken up into minute fragments. These
actually form the blood, a stream of nourishment containing all the
substances needed to replenish the waste in our tissues. The waste
itself is due to the assaults of the elements outside the body,
causing the escape of particles which fly off to seek their likes. The
motion of the blood is still not connected with any action of the
heart, but attributed to the oscillation of the respiratory system.
As the stream moves through the veins, the various substances
composing it are attracted, like to like, by the bodily organs, whose
waste they thus repair.

8od. Now the effect of respiration, whence this discussion arose,
takes place, as we said before, on this principle and by these
means : the fire cuts up our food and oscillates 1 inside us
as it accompanies the breath ; and by thus oscillating with
it, fills the veins from the belly by discharging the cut-up

codd. Hermann's emendation ala>poviitvtp may be preferred,
as by A.-H. and Fraccaroli ; ‘ accompanying the oscillation of the breath *.

327

NORMAL GROWTH AND DECAY 80d-81e

8od. food from thence. By this means, in any animal, the streams
of nourishment are kept flowing throughout the whole body.
The particles, being freshly divided and coming from kindred

E. substances — from fruits or herbs which the god caused to
grow for this very purpose of feeding us — take on all manner
of colours owing to their being mixed together ; but they
are chiefly pervaded by a red hue, a character inwrought on
moisture by fire that cuts and stains it.1 Hence the colour
of the stream throughout the body assumes the appearance
we have described ; this we call blood, on which the flesh
and the whole body feed, so that every member draws water
81. therefrom to replenish the base of the depleted part.2 The
manner of this replenishment and wasting is like that move-
ment of all things in the universe which carries each thing
towards its own kind.3 For the elements besetting us outside
are always dissolving and distributing our substance, sending
each kind of body on its way to join its fellows ; while on
the other hand the substances in the blood, when they are
broken up small within us and find themselves comprehended

B. by the individual living creature, framed like a heaven to
include them,4 are constrained to reproduce the movement
of the universe. Thus each substance within us that is
reduced to fragments replenishes at once the part that has
just been depleted, by moving towards its own kind.

Normal growth and decay. — Such being the process of nourishment,
it remains to explain why the young animal grows, whereas later
in life it dwindles and withers in old age. The creature is originally
formed from the seed, which is a portion of the parent's ‘ generative
marrow ’ (73B, 91 b), and nourished on milk ; so its consistency is
soft. On the other hand, the triangles of the fire, air, water, and
earth which form the marrow are, as we were told (73B), excep-
tionally smooth and unwarped. It is here added that their edges
fit closely together, so that the solid, particles are firm and can more

1 Cf. the account of red or blood-colour at 68b.

2 rrjv tov k€vov/j,€vov fiacnv, not 4 the places that are left void * (A.-H.).
The main food-conveying channels of the blood are sunk deep within the
flesh, which is watered and fed from beneath, as a plant from its roots. Cf.
83E TTvdiiivtav, the roots or foundations of the flesh.

8 to ovyyevds, here and at b, 2, shows that ovyyw&v above (d, 8) means
4 kindred ', not 4 coaeval '.

4 An allusion to 5 8a, which explained how all the four primary bodies are
comprehended by 4 the circuit of the whole ', and how mutual attraction of
likes and the constant changes of direction of transformed bodies keep the
whole together and tend to allow no vacancy to be left unfilled. The move-
ment is reproduced here in the microcosm,

328

NATURAL DEATH

than hold their own against the incoming particles of which the
food and drink consist. Accordingly, digestion is easy ; for the
internal fire-particles, being close-knit and sharp, can penetrate and
cut up the food-particles, whose triangles are older and weaker.
Blood will thus be formed readily and in abundance, and the
creature will grow. The onset of decay and the wasting of old age
come when this situation is reversed and the incoming particles are
too strong for the fiery ones inside to cut up. Rather these are
shattered by the intruders. Digestion will be increasingly difficult
and the blood will run thinner. The creature will now dwindle
and waste away.

8ib. Now whenever there is more going out than flowing in, all
things diminish ; when there is less, they grow. So when
the frame of the whole creature is young and the triangles
of its constituent bodies are still as it were fresh from the
workshop, their joints are firmly locked together, although
the consistency of the whole bulk is soft, having been but

c. lately formed of marrow and nourished on milk. Accord-
ingly, since any triangles composing the meat and drink,
which come in from outside and are enveloped within the
young creature, are older and weaker than its own, with its
new-made triangles it gets the better of them and cuts them
up, and so causes the animal to wax large, nourishing it with
an abundance of substances like its own.1 But when the
root 2 of the triangles is loosened by reason of the many

d. conflicts in which they have long been engaged with so many
others, they can no longer cut up into their own likeness the
triangles of the nourishment as they enter, but are themselves
easily divided by the intruders from without. So every
living creature is at this time overmastered and wastes away ;
and this condition is called old age.

Death, when not due to violence or disease, is accounted for by
the weakening and breaking down of the triangles of the marrow.

1 The doctrine that each substance in our body is nourished by the accession
of like substances already present in our food and drink was clearly asserted
by Anaxagoras, and is alluded to at Phaedo 96D. Cf. Ar., de gen. et corr .
3336, 1 (Empedocles).

2 17 pija tojv rpiyatvoiv x<zA£. This curious metaphor must describe the
opposite of what was called above ‘ being strongly locked-together ’ (arvy/cAciaiv)
so as to form a firm solid. This favours Tr.'s view (p. 586) that ‘ roots *
means the sides, which are the lines along which triangles are joined to compose
a corpuscle. The metaphor seems to be taken from the loosening of a tree’s
roots. I cannot see that pt£ a has anything to do with a ship, as Tr. would
have it. The only phrase in the whole context that definitely suggests a
ship is e/c 8pvox<*>v ; but that was a current metaphor applied to other things.

329

HYDRAULICS OF THE IRRIGATION SYSTEM 80d-81e

This substance is the very seat of the life-principle ; in it the
‘ bonds of life are fastened so long as the soul is bound together
with the body * (73B). This whole passage is concerned only with
the normal course of growth, decay, and death, which must occur
in the healthiest creature. The entire process is explained in
terms of the constituent triangles of the elementary bodies.
Abnormal decay and death due to disease will be treated later.

8id. And at last, when the conjoined bonds of the triangles in
the marrow no longer hold out under the stress, but part
asunder, they let go in their turn the bonds of the soul 1 ;
and she, when thus set free in the course of nature, finds

E. pleasure in taking wing to fly away. For whereas all that
is against nature is painful, what takes place in the natural
way is pleasant. So death itself, on this principle, is painful
and contrary to nature when it results from disease or
wounds, but when it comes to close the natural course of
old age, it is, of all deaths, the least distressing and is accom-
panied rather by pleasure than by pain.

Reviewing this whole account of digestion, nutrition, and respira-
tion, we can see that Plato’s main concern is with the hydraulics
of his irrigation system. Completely ignoring the voluntary or
reflex action of the muscles, he has discovered the motive power
in the natural tendency of fire to make for its own region, assisted
by the principle of the circular thrust. The problem presented by
the upward movement of the blood from the belly to the head was
analogous to that of the movement of water in the earth to the
tops of mountains, whence it descends in streams. This troubled
the mechanical genius of Leonardo da Vinci, who wrote : ‘ The
water runs from the rivers to the sea and from the sea to the rivers,
always making the same circuit. The water is thrust from the
utmost depth of the sea to the high summits of the mountains,
where, finding the veins cut, it precipitates itself and returns to
the sea below, mounts once more by the branching veins and then
falls back, thus going and coming between high and low, sometimes
inside, sometimes outside. It acts like the blood of animals which
is always moving, starting from the sea of the heart and mounting
to the summit of the head ; there, if the veins are burst, as one
may see a vein burst in the nose, all the blood in the lower parts
mounts to the height of the burst vein.’ Like Plato, Leonardo
regards the rising of the water in the mduntains and of the blood

1 At 89B we learn that each individual has his allotted span of life, ‘ since
the triangles in every creature are from the outset put together with the
power to hold out for a certain time, beyond which life cannot be prolonged

330

HYDRAULICS OF THE IRRIGATION SYSTEM

to the head as contrary to the natural movement of the fluids, and
he accounts for it by invoking the vital heat : ‘ if the body of the
earth did not resemble man, the water of the sea, being so much
lower than the mountains, could not of its own nature mount to
their summits. Hence we must believe that the reason which
holds the blood at the summit of man’s head is the same that holds
the water at the summit of the mountains * Water, the vital
humour of the terrestrial machine, moves owing to natural heat.’
' Water is like the blood which natural heat holds in the veins at
the top of the head.’ 1

Leonardo’s comparison may have been prompted by Seneca
(Nat. Qu. iii, 15 ff.), who holds that the Earth is analogous to the
human body with its veins containing blood and its wind-pipes
containing breath. In the Earth there are channels, some of water,
some of breath, so similar to ours that the ancients spoke of ‘ veins
of water \ The Earth contains as many different kinds of humours
as our bodies ; both are subject to various kinds of corruption.
Streams flow out of Earth like blood from our veins when these are
opened. The Earth contains not only veins of water, but huge
subterranean rivers, some of which emerge at the bottom of lakes.
Seneca himself may well have been inspired by the myth in the
Phaedo, which, as Stewart remarks, ' recommends itself to the
“ scientific mind ” by explaining the origin of hot and cold springs,
volcanic action, and, I think, the tides of the Atlantic Ocean
We are there, told that the Earth, at many places all over its spherical
surface, is indented with hollows of every size and shape, into
which water, mist, and air have flowed together ; they are the
sediment of the pure ether which envelopes the true surface.
All the hollows are connected by many channels, narrow or wide,
bored through the Earth. Through these much water flows from
one basin to another ; and there are many underground rivers of
hot and cold water, or fire, or mud and lava, which fill each hollow
in turn as the circulation (negcggorj) flows round to it. All these
are kept in motion by a certain oscillation (aldoga) in the Earth
produced in the following way. The largest chasm of all pierces
right through the whole Earth. All the rivers flow together
(ovQgdovcn) into this chasm, and then out again, because the liquid
has no base to rest upon 2 ; so it oscillates and surges up and down,

1 These quotations from Leonardo's MSS. are taken from G. S6ailles,
Leonard da Vinci, Paris (1892), pp. 299 ff. .

8 4 There is no bottom at the centre of the earth. . . . We must keep in
mind throughout this passage that everything falls to the earth's centre.
The impetus (oppJj) of the water takes it past the centre every time, but it
falls back again, and so on indefinitely ’ (Burnet, ad loc.).

331

DISEASES OF THE BODY 81e-86a

and the air or breath (nvev/ua) connected with it does the same,
accompanying it as it makes now for the other side of the Earth,
now back again towards this side. ‘ Just as, when we breathe, the
stream of the breath is perpetually exhaled and inhaled, so there
the breath (jtvevjua), oscillating with the liquid, produces terrible
and irresistible winds as it comes in and goes out/ When the water
retreats towards what we call the ‘ lower ' parts (i.e. the antipodes),
the streams flow into the regions on that further side of the Earth,
and fill them as irrigators fill their channels. Then, when the
impulse is in the opposite direction, the streams fill the region on
our side, and, flowing by the channels through the Earth, reach
the hollows on the surface, forming seas, lakes, rivers, and springs.
Thence they sink once more into the' Earth, after making longer
or shorter journeys round, and fall again to the main chasm at a
higher or lower level, but always below the point at which they
came out. They can always descend as far as the centre of the
Earth, but no farther ; for the part of the chasm which is beyond
the centre is uphill to a stream coming from either side.

The similarities between this passage and ours have often been
remarked. The only cause suggested in the Phaedo for the oscilla-
tion of the waters is, as Olympiodorus 1 says, that ‘ the Earth is a
living creature and as it were respires and causes certain refluxes
by its inhalations and exhalations \ When the Earth inhales ‘ all
the rivers flow together into the chasm, and then flow back again
out of it \ as in the Timaeus the air surrounding the body 4 at
one moment flows together upon the funnels, while at another
moment the funnels flow back \ There is, indeed, a not accidental
resemblance between the hollows on the Earth's surface where the
water collects to flow into the underground channels and the
funnels of the pharynx where the air collects to pass into the
irrigation system.

8ie-86a. Diseases of the body

To the account of the normal course of decay in old age and
natural death is now added a classification of diseases. The funda-
mental notion of nearly all Greek medicine was that health depends
on a due balance or proportioned mixture of the ultimate con-
stituents of the body. Where the schools differed was on the
question, what these ultimate constituents are. According to
Alcmaeon, the junior contemporary of Pythagoras, they are the

1 Comment . in Phaed., p. 204, Finckh. Wyttenbach on Phaedo iiie cites
the Stoic Athenodorus' explanation of tides as due to inhalation and exhalation
(Strabo iii, 7) and Pomponius Mela iii, 1, 15, neque adhuc satis cognitum est
anhelitune suo id mundus efficiat retractamque cum spiritu regerat undam
undique, si, ut doctiorihus placet, unum animal est.

332

DISEASES OF THE BODY

opposite powers (dwafieig), hot and cold, moist and dry, bitter and
sweet, and the rest. Health is maintained by a sort of democratic
equality (toovojbUa) ; disease is caused by one opposite establishing
its sole ascendancy (juovaQxta) over the other. Alcmaeon seems to
have had an indefinite list of pairs of opposites ; but the influence
of Milesian cosmology gave special prominence to the two pairs —
the hot and the cold, the moist and the dry — which were themselves
associated with the seasons of the year and the cycle of life in all
nature. The life of plants and animals does in fact depend upon
a certain balance of the alternating powers of summer heat and
winter cold, the rainy season and the times of drought.

The Coan school of medicine replaced the * powers ’ by fluid
substances, the humours (%vjuot).1 The writer of the treatise on
Ancient Medicine , attacking the intrusion of philosophic pre-
conceptions into his art, points out that the hot, the cold, the
moist, and the dry are not substances, but merely powers ; the
body consists of certain humours which have powers or properties.
Health is the harmonious blending or balance of these substances,
not of the powers. In the Nature of Man, attributed by Aristotle
to Polybus, the humours are declared to be four in number : blood,
phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. These were, somewhat arti-
ficially, associated with the four principal powers.

The Italian and Sicilian school followed a different line. In
Empedocles’ system the four powers had been simply identified
with the four elements, fire (hot), air (cold), water (moist), earth
(dry). These elements are the components of the body, as of
everything else. Philistion of Locri developed a medical theory on
this basis, which is summarised as follows 2 :

Philistion holds that we consist of four ‘ forms * (idecov), that
is elements : fire, air, water, earth. Each of these has its own
power : fire the hot, air the cold, water the moist, earth the dry.
Diseases arise in various ways, which fall roughly under three
heads, (i) Some are due to the elements, when the hot or the
cold comes to be in excess, or the hot becomes too weak and
feeble. (2) Some are due to external causes of three kinds :
(a) wounds ; ( b ) excess of heat, cold, etc. ; (c) change of hot to
cold or cold to hot, or of nourishment to something inappropriate
and corrupt. (3) Others are due to the condition of the body :
thus, he says, ‘ when the whole body is breathing well and the
breath is passing through without hindrance, there is health ;
for respiration takes place not only through mouth and nostrils,
but all over the body. . . /

1 See Loeb Trans, of Hippocrates by W. H. S. Jones, vol. i, pp. xlvi ff.

2 Wellmann, Frag. d. Gr. Aerzte, no, Philistion, frag. 4.

p.c. 333 Z

DISEASES OF THE BODY 81e-£6a

Philistion is believed to have practised at Syracuse, and Plato
may have met him there.1 It seems certain that he influenced
Diodes of Karystus in Euboea, who was regarded by later physicians
as a ‘ second Hippocrates Diodes practised chiefly at Athens,
and wrote on all branches of medicine. His floruit is placed between
400 and 350 B.c. The many points of agreement between Diodes
and Plato support the inference that both were influenced by
Philistion. The common foundation is the four fundamental
qualities of Empedocles, not the four humours, though Diodes was
acquainted with these. In Plato's theory, accordingly, the humours
play a secondary part. His first class of diseases is due to excess
or defect or misplacement of one or another of the primary bodies.
In the treatment of the remaining classes he brings into account
his peculiar doctrine of the triangles composing the solid figures of
the elements.2

(1) Diseases due to excess or defect or misplacement of the primary
bodies . — This class corresponds to the first of Philistion's three
classes. Diodes 3 also held that most diseases are due to ' anomaly
of the elements in the body and of its condition ' (Philistion's third
class, due to disorders of respiration).

8ie. The origin of diseases is no doubt evident to all. Since
82. there are four kinds which compose the body, earth, fire,
water, and air, disorders and diseases arise from the unnatural
prevalence or deficiency of these, or from their migration
from their own proper place to an alien one ; or again, since
there are several varieties of fire and the rest, from any bodily
part's taking in an unsuitable variety, and from all other
causes of this kind. For when any one of the kinds is
formed or shifts its place contrary to nature, parts that were

b«, formerly cold are heated, the dry become moist, and so also

1 If Plato's Second Letter is genuine, it seems to imply that Philistion
attended Dionysius II, and establishes Plato’s acquaintance with him.

a Tr.'s notes should be consulted for evidence about fifth-century medical
theories ; but his belief that the contents of the Timaeus represent the
thought of that century, not of Plato’s own, has led him to take comparatively
little notice of Diocles. He thinks * the most likely view is that men like
Philistion are responsible for all the main points in the medical part of the
dialogue, and that they naturally enough followed the lead of Philolaus'
(p. 599)- Philolaus is called ‘ roughly contemporary ’ with Zeno, Empedocles,
and Timaeus, who * must be thought of as bom at the very beginning of the
fifth century * (p. 1 7) . So the impression is conveyed that the court physician
of Dionysius II was, so far as his doctrine is concerned, practically a con-
temporary of Empedocles. My own notes on the medical authorities should
be taken as supplementary to Tr.'s. It is useless to repeat all the early
evidence he has collected, especially about Pythagorean views.

8 Aet v, 30, 2.

334

DISEASES OF THE BODY

82B. with the light and the heavy, and they undergo changes of
every kind. The only way, as we hold, in which any part
can be left unchanged and sound and healthy is that the
same thing should be coming to it and departing from it
with constant observance of uniformity and due proportion ;
any element that trespasses beyond these limits in its in-
coming or passing out will give rise to a great variety of
alterations and to diseases and corruptions without number.

(2) Diseases of the {secondary) tissues. — We pass next from the
simple bodies to the tissues composed of some or all of them. These
secondary components of the body were known as 4 homoeomerous '
substances, because they were believed to be indefinitely divisible
into similar parts. Empedocles was the first to suggest that bone,
sinew, flesh, and blood were composed of the four elements in
definite proportions. Bone, for example, contained four parts of
fire, two of earth, one of air, and one of water. Blood and flesh
contained all four elements in equal or nearly equal quantities.
In this tradition blood is not ranked with the other three ‘ humours ’.
In Empedocles it is the seat of the physical soul and consciousness.

Plato has already described (73B ff.) the composition of marrow,
bone, sinew, and flesh ; blood is formed directly out of the digested
food and contains portions suitable for the nourishment of all the
tissues. He now tells us something of the manner in which the
nourishing takes place. Sinew is produced from the fibrine, flesh
from the coagulated blood when the fibrine has been removed.
Sinew and flesh in their turn produce a viscous fluid, which glues
flesh to bone and nourishes both the bones and the marrow they
contain. Such is the natural order in which the several tissues are
built up. Some points may have been suggested by Diodes’
embryological observations :

‘ The first articulate formation of the embryo is observed at
about the fortieth day. Up to nine days sanguineous threads
can be traced ; at eighteen days flesh-like clots and some
fibrinaceous formations can be seen, in which the pulsation of
the heart is found. At thrice nine days, according to Diodes, a
faint outline of the spine and head becomes visible in a mucus-
like membrane. At four times nine days the wfyole body is
distinct for the first time, or finally (adding another four days)
about the fortieth day. Empedocles agrees with this account of
the times at which the embryo becomes quite distinct.’ 1
Plato, however, is concerned with the normal process of nutrition,
whereby the appropriate substances in the blood are built up into

* 1 Oribasius iii, 78 = Diodes, frag. 175, Wellmann.

335

DISEASES OF THE BODY 81e-$6a

the several tissues whose waste they repair.1 Diseases of his second
class are due to the unnatural reversal of this process, starting
from the breaking down of flesh, which then discharges corrupt
substances back into the blood. These give rise to the noxious
humours, the various kinds of bile and phlegm. Finally, the
trouble may go deeper and affect the bones and the very seat of
life in the marrow. I cannot find evidence that any medical writer
.had formulated this notion of a reversal of the normal course of
nutrition as the cause of a special class of diseases, beyond the
testimony, quoted by Taylor (p. 592), that Philolaus regarded bile,
blood, and phlegm as the source of diseases, and bile (if present at
all) as a ‘ useless ' substance. This is vague and inconclusive :
blood seems to be ranked with the other humours, and all medical
doctrine connected some diseases with misbehaviour of the humours.
Plato's notion of a reversal appears to be associated with the
opposition of growth (avi-rjcng) , resulting from normal nutrition,
and decay (consumption, tpOtaig) as the contrary process. At
8ib~e he traced the natural course of growth followed by the decay
of old age, without the intervention of disease. Decay was due to
the inevitable wearing out and falling to pieces of the triangles.
Here we are concerned with abnormal, morbid decay, in which the
current that should foster growth is forced to flow backwards.
The reverse of * generation ' (yeveaig) is decay or corruption (fpOoga.)

82B. Again, seeing that secondary formations exist in nature, an

c. attentive consideration will discern a second class of diseases.
Since marrow, bone, flesh, and sinew are composed of the
bodies above named, and blood also of the same bodies,
though in a different way, most of the diseases affecting them
arise in the same manner as those just mentioned ; but the
most serious afflictions take the form of a corruption of these
structures, which occurs when the process of their formation
is reversed.

In the natural course flesh and sinews arise from the blood
— sinew from fibrine (for they are cognate), flesh from the

d. compacting of the blood from which the fibrine is being
removed.2 From sinews and flesh, again, proceeds the

1 I cannot see that this account of nutrition is inconsistent with the earlier
description of the composition of the several tissues at 73B ff. However they
are composed, they must all be nourished ultimately by the blood.

* It is not explained what agency in the living body causes the blood
without fibrine to be compacted into flesh. It may be the * innate heat \
for when the blood is cold in the dead body blood without fibrine remains
liquid (85D). This is in accordance with the view which Diodes is presumed
to have shared with Empedocles that the male embryo is more quickly

336

DISEASES OF THE BODY

82D. viscous and oily stuff which glues the flesh to the structure
of the bones and also feeds the growth of the bone itself
which encloses the marrow ; while at the same time the
purest part, consisting of triangles of the smoothest and most
slippery sort, filters through the close texture of the bones
and, as it is distilled from them in drops, waters the marrow.

E. When the several structures are formed in this order, the
result, as a rule, is health.

Disease comes when the order is reversed. Thus, when
flesh is decomposed and discharges the results of its decom-
position back into the veins, these are then filled with much
blood of every sort together with air ; this has a diversity
of colours and bitternesses, as well as acid and saline qualities,
and develops bile, serum, and phlegm of all sorts. All these
products of breaking down and corruption in the first place
destroy the blood itself, and providing the body with no
83. further nourishment from themselves, they are carried every-
where through the veins, no longer observing the order of
natural circulation. They are at feud among themselves
because they can get no good of one another ; and they
make war upon whatsoever in the body keeps orderly array
and stays at its post ; so they spread corruption and
dissolution.

It will be seen that Plato regards bile and phlegm, two of the
fundamental substances in the humoral physiology, as morbid
products of the decomposition of flesh.1 The next paragraphs
describe in some detail how the various recognised types of bile
and phlegm are so generated. There is some resemblance here to
the doctrine of Dexippus of Cos, the pupil of Hippocrates, who
regarded phlegm and bile as superfluous products of nutriment,
and held that the mixture of these two humours with the blood,
which changes colour accordingly, gives rise to the four species :
white phlegm, blood-coloured phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile.2
But Wellmann believes that Plato's theory of the humours is
probably due to Philistion and Diodes, who held that the humours
are produced by the action of the ‘ innate heat ’ on the nutriment
in the veins. Blood is the mixture in normal proportions ; bile is

formed than the female, because the male is in the right (warmer) part of
the uterus. Diocles also held that overheating ((4<n?) thickens the blood
and so blocks the veins, causing indigestion. Wellmann, P.-W. Real Encycl.,
s.v. Diokles, 805-6.

1 Cf. Tim. Locr. 102c, ^oAas yap ral yeWaiey koX <j>\4yp&Tos evdtvhe, ^u/xot
voocohtes koX vypuiv craijucs . . .

2 Wellmann, Fr. d. Gr. Aerzte, p. 75.

337

DISEASES OF THE BODY

81e-86a

due to an excess of heat, phlegm to an excess of cold. Hence bile
causes inflammations, and phlegm catarrhs (as in Timaeus 83c,
85b)A

83 a. Now when the flesh which is decomposed has been formed
a long time before, it resists concoction ; it turns black under
long exposure to burning, and, being bitter because it is
eaten through and through, it is dangerous in its assault

b. upon any part of the body that is as yet uncorrupted. Some-
times, when the bitter stuff has been fined down, the bitter-
ness is replaced by acidity in the black colour. Sometimes,
again, when the bitterness is steeped in blood it acquires a
redder hue, and the mixture of the black with this redness
give it the ‘ bilious ' colour.1 2 Or again, a yellow colour may
be combined with the bitterness when the flesh decomposed
by the fire of the inflammation is of recent formation. To
all these the common name ‘ bile ' has been given, either by

c. physicians, or perhaps by someone capable of surveying a
number of unlike things and discerning in them all a single
kind deserving a name ; while the several varieties of bile
recognised 3 have been specially defined each according to
its colour.

The serum of black and acid bile (in contrast to that of
blood, which is a harmless lymph) is dangerous when com-
bined with a saline quality by the action of heat ; this is
called acid phlegm. There is also the product resulting from
the decomposition of new and tender flesh, accompanied by
air.4 This is inflated by air and enveloped in moisture so

1 Wellmann in P.-W. Real Encycl., s.v. Diokles, 803.

2 The reading xoA&Scs is supported by the use of rd xoAd^ for gavdrf as
opposed to ii4\atva xoAy in the passages quoted by Wellmann, Fr. d. Gr. Aerzte,
p. 75# note 4, especially the testimony about Dexippus: [otclv S4, ^(rjaiv), 17
^oAt) t]o> alfMCLTi [i7TLfj.€Lx6fj, yi( v€tcu) rd] A cyofxeva xoAcu8 [17... The alterna-
tive reading *A ocoSes can then be explained as due to someone who thought it
absurd to call one class of bile ‘ bilious '. Plato has already mentioned the
XoAdtSi) xpdifxara exhibited by the liver, in connection with the * bitterness *
contained in that organ. Cherries might be similarly classified as white,
black, and cherry-coloured.

2 Namely the three species above described : black, * bilious and yellow.
The contrast is between the generic name ‘ bile and these three names for
the species rd dAAa means the species as opposed to the genus ; not

that there are other species than those named. Diogenes of Apollonia and
his contemporaries are said to have laid much stress on the colour of the
complexion as a sign of temperamental humours and a symptom of corre-
sponding diseases (Vors. 51 a, 29a).

4 As explained at 84E, air is produced inside the body by the decomposition
of flesh. Cf. also 82E, 3.

338

DISEASES OF THE BODY

83D. as to form bubbles, individually too small to be seen but
becoming visible in the mass, as the froth so formed makes
them appear white in colour. All this decomposition of
tender flesh in combination with air we call white phlegm.
Freshly forming phlegm, moreover, itself has a lymph,
namely sweat, tears, and all other such flowing substances

e. that are daily purged away.

All these things become agents to produce diseases when
the blood, instead of being replenished in the natural way
from food and drink, takes its increase from the opposite
quarter, contrary to the established use of nature.1

The next paragraph returns to the description of diseases due
to this reversal of the normal process. The decomposition of flesh
back into the blood, above mentioned, is less grave than the more
deeply seated corruption of the fluid which binds flesh to bone and
nourishes bone and marrow. Beyond that again lie the affections
of the bones themselves, and finally of the marrow.

83E. Now when the several sorts of flesh are broken down by
diseases, so long as their roots hold firm, the mischief is but
half done, for it still admits of easy recovery. But when
84. that which binds flesh to bone falls sick and in its turn the
stream that is separated off from flesh and sinews 2 no longer
serves to nourish bone and bind the flesh thereto, but instead
of being oily, smooth, and viscous, becomes rough and saline,
parched by an unhealthy manner of living, then all the
substance so affected crumbles back again up into 3 the
flesh and sinews as it comes away from the bones ; while

b. the flesh, falling away with it from its roots, leaves the sinews
bare and full of brine, and itself falls back again into the
current of the blood, to aggravate the disorders before
described.4

Grievous as these affections of the body are, yet graver

1 7rapa rovs rrjs <f>vcr€cos vofiovs * * contrary to the laws of nature * is a
mistranslation. All that is meant is the customary and normal process by
which blood is healthily formed.

2 Reading koX p.r)K€Ti av to etcelvcov vapa ( alpha , codd : apa St.) xal vevpajv
dnoxcopL^ofievov. alpha is certainly corrupt, and vdpa has more point than
Stallbaum's dpa. At 82D the fluid was said to drip from the bones and water
the marrow.

3 xnr6, ' up into not merely ' under '. The natural movement — secretion
of the fluid from sinews and flesh down on to the bones — is reversed.

4 At 82 e— 83 a. The more superficial diseases due to corruption of the
blood by decomposing flesh are reinforced by these more deeply seated
affections of the fluid.

339

DISEASES OF THE BODY

81 e— 86a

84B. are those which go deeper and come when the density of the
flesh does not allow the bone to receive enough ventilation.
Through mouldiness the bone is overheated and decays ; no
longer taking in its proper food, it goes rather the opposite

c. way and crumbles back into the nourishing fluid ; and that
again falls into flesh, and the flesh into the blood, thus
making the maladies of the parts previously mentioned 1 all
more virulent.

Finally, the most desperate case of all is when the substance
of the marrow becomes diseased by some deficiency or excess.
This produces the most serious and deadly disorders, since
the whole substance of the body is forced to flow in a backward
course.

(3) Diseases due to [a) breath , ( b ) phlegm , ( c ) bile. Fevers. — The
last section has described the origin of phlegm and bile in the
reversal of the normal process, but no specific diseases have been
named. The third class now introduced contains groups of maladies
due to the blocking of respiration or the morbid formation of air
inside the body, and to the two noxious humours.

84c. A third class of diseases must be conceived as occurring in

d. three ways : (a) from breath, (b) from phlegm, or (c) from
bile.

(a) When the lung, whose office is to dispense the breath
to the body, is blocked by rheums and affords no clear
passages, the breath fails to reach some parts and causes
them to putrefy for lack of refreshment ; while too much of
it passes into other quarters, where it forces its way through
the veins and contorts them, dissolves the body, and is
intercepted when it reaches the barrier at the centre. Thus

E. are caused countless painful disorders, often accompanied by
much sweat.

Often, too, when flesh is broken down,2 air is formed inside
the body and, not being able to make its way out, causes
the same torments as those due to breath that has come
from outside. These are most severe when the air, gather-
ing and swelling up round the sinews and the small veins

1 ru>v Trpoodcv (governed by ra vocr/jpuira, not by rpaxvrcpa) , the flesh and
sinews and the viscous fluid. The corruption of the bones, by travelling all
the way back to the blood, aggravates all the less deeply seated diseases ;
just as, in the preceding paragraph, the corruption of the viscous fluid
aggravated ra rrp6aB€v prrfiiv ra vocnj/xara (b, 3).

a SuucpiBdorjs, 1 disintegrated \ cf. StaKpivopUvrjs rijs aaptcSs, 83B. So
A.-H. Cf. 82E, 83c, D.

340

DISEASES OF THE BODY

84E. there,1 makes them stretch backwards the tendons of the
back and the sinews attached to them. From the tension so
produced the disorders of course derive their names, tetanus
and opisthotonus. A cure is difficult ; indeed, such cases
are, for the most part, relieved by supervening fevers.

The first part of the above paragraph clearly refers specially to
inflammation of the lungs.2 The agreement of Plato’s account of
its causes with Diodes of Karystus once more points to the inference
that both were dependent on Philistion of Locri, whose third class
of diseases is due to the blocking of respiration (p. 333 above).
The second group, including tetanus, is attributed to the formation
of air inside the body as a product of decomposing flesh. Again
Plato’s doctrine has striking points of agreement with Diodes.
The last remark, that such disorders are relieved by supervening
fevers, is repeated in Hippocrates, Aphorisms iv, 57 (iv, 522L).

85A. (6) White phlegm, when intercepted, is dangerous, because

of the air in the bubbles ; but if it finds an escape to the
surface of the body, is milder, though it disfigures the body
by engendering white eruptions and kindred maladies.
When it is mixed with black bile and is diffused over the
divine circuits in the head so as to throw them into confusion,
the visitation, if it comes in sleep, is comparatively mild,
but an attack in waking hours is harder to throw off. As

b. an affliction of the sacred part, it deserves its name ‘ sacred
disease ’.

Acid and saline phlegm is the source of all disorders that
occur by defluxion ; they have received many different
names according to the divers regions towards which the
fluxion is directed.

Plato agrees with the author of the treatise On the Sacred Disease
(epilepsy) that it is an affection of the brain and caused by phlegm,
to which Plato (or his source) adds a mixture of black bile. He
also defends the use of the name ' sacred disease ’, but not on

1 Does this refer to the network of small veins round the head (77E) and
the sinews at the base of the skull (75D) ? ravrrj must presumably mean the
neighbourhood of the shoulders, taking its meaning from Mrovot, which
seems to mean whatever tendons or sinews were supposed to hold the back
erect, like the back-stays of a mast. Wellmann (p. 11) quotes from the
Artec. Med. 7, 544, the statement that all the ancient physicians held opistho-
tonus to be caused by ra and rod iyK€<f>dXov nefivKOTa vcvpa being filled with
viscous humours, which the tfrvxiKov irvevpka knocks up against, so causing
spasms. But the meaning of vcvpa here seems to be doubtful.

* Martin ii, 355. Wellmann, Ft. d. Gr. Aerzte 9, 76.

341

DISEASES OF THE BODY

81e-86a

the grounds attacked by the Hippocratean writer, that the disease
was due to supernatural causes. 1 Praxagoras and Diodes attributed
epilepsy to the formation of phlegmatic humours in the ‘ thick
artery \ These form bubbles which block the passage of the
pneuma from the heart and so produce tremors and spasms of the
body.2

85B. (c) Inflammations of any part of the body, so called from

its being burnt or ‘ inflamed ', are all due to bile.3 If the
bile finds a vent outwards, its seething sends up eruptions
c. of various kinds ; if shut up within, it engenders many
inflammatory diseases. The worst is when the bile mingles
with pure blood and breaks up the proper disposition of the
fibrine. This substance is distributed throughout the blood
to preserve in it a due proportion of thinness and thickness,
in order that heat should not so liquefy it as to make it
flow out through the porous texture of the body, nor yet
should its excessive density make it too sluggish for ready
D. circulation in the veins. The fibrine, by the composition of
its substance, preserves the- due mean ; even after death
when the blood is getting cold, if the fibrine is collected, all
the rest of the blood is liquefied ; whereas, if the fibrine is
left, it quickly congeals the blood with the help of the sur-
rounding coldness. Such being the action of fibrine in the
blood, bile, which had its origin as old blood and is now
dissolved back again into blood out of flesh, when it enters
the blood in small quantities at first, hot and liquid, congeals
under the action of the fibrine ; and while this is happening
e. and its natural heat is being quenched, it sets up internal
chill and shivering. As the bile flows in with fuller tide,
however, it overpowers the fibrine with its own hotness and
by boiling up shakes it into disarray ; and if it proves strong
enough to obtain the mastery to the end, it penetrates to
the substance of the marrow and in consuming it unlooses
the soul from her moorings there and sets her free. When
the flow is weaker and the body holds out against dissolution
the bile is itself overpowered ; then either it is expelled all
over the surface of the body, or else, after being thrust
through the veins into the lower or upper belly, banished

1 Wellmann, op. cit. 26 ff. See also Tr.’s note, p. 602.

8 Diodes, frag. 651, Wellmann.

8 Not to phlegm (which is regarded by Plato as cold), in spite of the etymo-
logical kinship of <f>X4yfia and <j>\4yeodcu. Polybus in the de nat. hom. connects
phlegm with air, the coldest element, yellow bile with heat, black bile with
dryness.

342

DISEASE IN THE SOUL

85E. from the body like an exile from a city at civil war, it causes
86. diarrhoea, dysentery, and all such disorders.

When the body has fallen sick chiefly through excess of
fire, it produces continuous heats and fevers ; excess of air
causes quotidian fevers ; excess of water, tertian, water
being more sluggish than air or fire. Excess of earth, which
ranks as the most sluggish of all the four, takes a fourfold
period for its purgation, and produces quartan fevers which
are hard to shake off.

The last paragraph on fevers has no connection with the previous
description of diseases due to bile. It belongs rather to the first
class of diseases, attributed above (82A) to excess or defect of one
of the four primary bodies. Wellmann 1 infers from a remark of
Galen's that Diodes recognised only the short periods (up to four
days) for intermittent fevers and regarded each kind of fever as
due to disorder of one of the four cardinal humours, and that this
doctrine was a development of Philistion’s, followed here by Plato.
He deduces the following scheme for Diodes :

Fire Water Air Earth

hot moist cold dry-

yellow bile blood phlegm black bile

continuous fever tertian quotidian quartan

It will be observed that Plato does not bring in the humours,
among which blood is not ranked with the others in his system.

86B-87B. Disease in the Soul due to defective bodily constitution and
to bad nurture

Next come those maladies of the soul whose origin can be traced
to a defective inherited constitution of the body or to a bad upbring-
ing in youth. Plato here lays emphasis on the initial disadvantages
of a bad physique, producing a tendency to vice ; and he connects
this topic with the Socratic doctrine, which he always maintained,
that no one is willingly (or wittingly) bad. Taylor finds that the
exposition of this maxim here ‘ explains away that very fact of
moral responsibility on which Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and
Timaeus himself, when he is talking ethics and not medicine, are
all anxious to insist \ Timaeus, he thinks, not only contradicts
Plato and the rest, but states a view ' quite irreconcilable ’ with
the earlier instructions to the created gods ‘ to steer the course of
the mortal creature nobly and well, except in so far as it shall be
the cause of evil to itself ’ (42E). Taylor concludes that Plato,

1 Op. cit. 92.

343

DISEASE IN THE SOUL

86b— 87b

with a ‘ kindly irony ’, is intentionally making Timaeus * give himself
away \ This seems an odd attitude to take towards an imaginary
character whose creator has attributed to him a view ‘ glaringly
inconsistent with itself ' and irreconcilable with all that he says
elsewhere. Archer-Hind, on the other hand, holds that Plato's
view of vice as an involuntary affection of the soul ‘ well illustrates
how admirably the various parts of his system fit together ', and
that the interpreter's declaration in the Republic that * responsibility
lies with the chooser ; heaven is not responsible ', not only is not
inconsistent with the maxim that no one is willingly bad, but is
inevitably implied in it. In view of this divergence of opinion,
it is important to consider carefully what Plato actually says here.
The ‘ determinism ' which Taylor discovers in our passage was the
last outcome of that materialistic view of the world which Plato
regarded as the root of atheism and immorality. Even Epicurus
shrank from such a conclusion and invented a physical basis for
free will. That Plato should either accept such determinism himself
or attribute it to a fifth-century Pythagorean is, in the last degree,
improbable.

86b. Such is the manner in which disorders of the body arise ;
disorders of the soul are caused by the bodily condition in
the following way. It will be granted that folly is disorder
of the soul ; and of folly there are two kinds, madness and
stupidity. Accordingly, any affection that brings on either
of these must be called a disorder ; and among the gravest
disorders for the soul we must rank excessive pleasures and
pains. When a man is carried away by enjoyment or dis-

c. tracted by pain, in his immoderate haste to grasp the one or
to escape the other he can neither see nor hear aright ; he
is in a frenzy and his capacity for reasoning is then at its
lowest. Moreover, when the seed in a man's marrow becomes
copious with overflowing moisture like the overabundance
of fruitfulness in a tree, he is filled with strong pains of
travail and with pleasures no less strong on each occasion (?) 1
in his desires and in their satisfaction ; for the most part of
his life he is maddened by these intense pleasures and pains ;

d. and when his soul is rendered sick and senseless by the body
he is commonly held to be not sick but deliberately bad.

1 koB* exacrrov is difficult : * des douleurs tr&s grandes chacune en particulier ’
(Martin) ; in jeder Beziehung (Muller) ; * from time to time * (A.-H.) ; immer
wieder (Apelt) ; ‘ many a specific pang ’ (Tr.) ; a parte a parte e nei desider!
e negli effetti loro (Fraccaroli) . In Plato the phrase normally means
* severally * or * individually \ as at 49B, 4, fxaXXov rj xai avavra Kad' exoarov re,
26c, 6, fir} fxovov €v K€<j>a\alois aXX* wcnrep ijxovoa Kad’ ixaorov (‘ in detail ').

344

DISEASE IN THE SOUL

5d. But the truth is that sexual intemperance is a disorder of
the soul arising, to a great extent, from the condition of a
single substance 1 which, owing to the porousness of the bones,
floods the body with its moisture. We might almost say,
indeed, of all that is called incontinence in pleasure that it
it not justly made a reproach, as if men were willingly bad.

E. No one is willingly bad ; the bad man becomes so because of
some faulty habit of body and unenlightened upbringing,
and these are unwelcome afflictions that come to any man
against his will.

Again, where pains are concerned, the soul likewise derives
much badness from the body. When acid and salt phlegms
or bitter bilious humours roam about the body and, finding
no outlet, are pent up within and fall into confusion by
blending the vapour that arises from them with the motion
37. of the soul, they induce all manner of disorders of the soul
of greater or less intensity and extent.2 Making their way
to the three seats of the soul, according to the region they
severally invade, they beget many divers types of ill-temper
and despondency, of rashness and cowardice, of dulness and
oblivion.3

Besides all this, when men of so bad a composition dwell

B. in cities with evil forms of government, where no less evil
discourse is held both in public and private,4 and where,
moreover, no course of study that might counteract this
poison is pursued from youth upward, that is how all of us

1 The marrow, or that part of it which forms the seed, which the bones
are not dense enough to retain and keep in its proper consistency. So A.-H.
Since these words repeat to oTrepfia otco ttoAv kclI pvujSes ire pi rov pLveXov ylyverai^
(c, 4), I cannot understand why Tr. says that the substance meant is ‘ clearly *
not the fiveAos but the bones (p. 616). At 82D we learnt that the marrow is
fed by the fluid which filters through the * dense ' substance of bone in drops.
If the bones are too porous, the marrow will receive too much liquid, and also
escape too freely by the channel which will be described later (91 a).

2 It is conjectured that this doctrine of vapours arising from the humours
was held by Philistion and Diocles. See Wellmann, Fr. d. Gy. Aerzte, p. 78.
Cf. the confusion caused in the soul's revolutions by the mixture of phlegm
and black bile, causing epilepsy, 85 a.

8 It was a universal doctrine that lethargy was due to phlegm. Wellmann,
op. cit. 801.

4 Understanding orav ovrc os kclkcos Trayivrixiv ( wen ) 7toAit€uu *a/cai. Kara ttoAcls
is usually either ignored by translators or rendered 1 in the cities In this
sense it seems to add nothing to IBlq. re *at I suggest that Ao'yoi

Kara ir6Aci$ means * discourses in conformity with (such) cities '. This provides
\6yoi with the equivalent of ofxoUos kokoC, which seems needed. The omission
of ras before rroAeis is unobjectionable in the style of this dialogue, which
treats the definite article with poetic freedom.

345

DISEASE IN THE SOUL

86b-87b

87B. who are bad become so, through two causes that are altogether
against the will.1 For these the blame must fall upon the
parents rather than the offspring,2 and upon those who give,
rather than those who receive, nurture ; nevertheless, a man
must use his utmost endeavour by means of education,
pursuits, and study to escape from badness and lay hold
upon its contrary.

The contents of the above section should be considered in the
light of the two following, which recommend remedies to correct
any disproportion of body and soul and the training of the divine
part for its office as ruler. But it will be well to summarise here
just what has been stated so far.

This section sets out to describe how ‘ disorders of the soul are
caused by the bodily condition \ It is recognised, here and below,
that when soul and body are united in the composite living creature,
either can set up disorder in the other : intense intellectual activity
may wreck the health, or a gross and too powerful frame may
assert its interests to the point of causing dulness and stupidity
in the mind (88a-b). After the earlier consideration of bodily
diseases it is natural to pass on here to those disorders of the soul
which have their origin in the condition of the body. It is not
stated that all mental disorders are solely due to bodily states.
Next it is added that ' folly ' {fivoia) must be recognised as disorder
of the soul, and that there are two kinds of folly : * madness 1 and
stupidity. ' Folly 1 means any state in which the divine reason
(vovg) is not exercising due control over the rest of the soul. The
two main types are ' madness ' (/u avia), which means frantic passion-
ate excitement, not pathological insanity, and stupidity (dfiadia),
that dull and lethargic ignorance which is incapable even of the
desire for understanding. It is not said that these states of mind
cover the whole field of what could be called ‘ disorder of the soul '.3
They are the conditions which can arise from ‘ a bad habit of body '
and be encouraged by 4 unenlightened upbringing ' in youth.

1 The two causes are a defective constitution inherited from parents and
bad upbringing, as is implied by the next sentence and by Sux irowjpav Ifiv
riva rod ouifiaros Kal anaCBcvrov r po<f>rjv, 86e.

* Laws 755D : A man must be careful all through his life, and especially
during the time when he is begetting, to commit no act involving either
bodily ailment or violence and injustice ; for these he will inevitably stamp
on the souls and bodies of his offspring.

8 It should be remembered that voaos is commonly used in a much wider
sense than ‘ disease It is frequently applied, for instance, to passionate
love and to political disorder. To have an unbridled tongue is a voaos
(Euripides). At Laws 782D the natural desires of food and sex are 1
In the same way ‘ badness ' (iccuUa) is a wider term than ‘ vice '.

346

DISEASE IN THE SOUL

In the moral, as in the physical, life of man there is, beside the
operation of reason, much that * comes about of necessity ' and is
repugnant to the inmost wish or will of the rational part. The
Timaeus is primarily a physical rather than a moral treatise, and
it is fitting that it should lay more stress than we find in the moral
and political dialogues on the inevitable consequences of the
immortal soul being housed in a body subject to the assaults of
an environment composed of the same stuff. We have been told
earlier that, when the infant soul is plunged into the stream of
Becoming, its motions are thrown into such disorder that the
rational revolution of the Same is completely arrested and robbed
of all control, and even the inferior movement of the Different is
so dislocated and distorted as to give rise to every sort of delusion
and false judgment. 1 Because of these affections, to-day as at the
beginning, a soul comes to be without intelligence (foolish, avovg)
at first, when it is bound in a mortal body * (43D-~44A). Escape
from this ‘ most grave disorder ' 1 depends on a right upbringing
at a later stage, when the revolutions have begun to settle down
into their normal course. If this be neglected, a man lives maimed
and imperfect, and returns to Hades ‘ in a state of folly * (avorjrog

44c).

No one holds the new-born infant morally responsible for starting
life in folly and ignorance. The present passage adds that some
individuals are further handicapped by inherited defects of body
which make them peculiarly liable to excess of passion or to
despondent lethargy. An abnormal condition of the bones and
marrow may make sexual continence much more difficult for some,
and their violent excitement will hinder reason from gaining control.
Others may suffer from noxious humours inducing a melancholy
and dispirited attitude and intellectual dulness. Such persons have
not chosen their bodily habit and they are not to be blamed for it.
The remedy lies in judicious training, both physical and mental,
from the earliest years. If this is withheld and they are further
surrounded by corrupting influences in an ill-governed state, again
the blame should fall not on them, but on their elders. But they
are not absolved from the duty, mentioned in the last sentence, of
doing all they can by education and intellectual pursuits ‘ to escape
from badness and lay hold upon its contrary \2 Here moral

1 Ttjy iicytorrjv a7ro(f>try<x)v voaov (44c) alludes to the mystic formula €<f>vyov
KCLKovt ctfpov dfxcivov, to which Tr. recognises a reference in our passage :
tf>vy€iv pkv Kcudav, rovvavriov 8e eAeiv (87B). Cf. also opdrj t po<f>rj Traihtvoeays
(44B) with arraihcvTov rpcxfr'qv (86e).

2 Tr. ignores this conclusion where he accuses Timaeus of * the grievous
blunder of drawing no distinction between the man who masters his tempera-
ment and the man who is mastered by it ' (p. 616).

347

DISEASE IN THE SOUL

86b-87b

purpose will be exercised. But on this matter Plato has written
at large elsewhere ; all that is relevant here is to give some account,
in the following paragraphs, of the training, chiefly by diet and
gymnastic exercise, needed to correct the prejudicial influence of
physical defect.

In speaking, not of any and every form of vice, but of the
inability to control excessive desire for bodily pleasure, Plato quotes
the Socratic maxim, ‘ No one is willingly (or wittingly) bad \ The
intemperance which has its origin in physical defect and grows for
lack of remedial training is not to be attributed to the true will,
whose inmost desire is always for the good. This desire, which
Plato and Aristotle after him call ‘ wish ’ (ftovArjaig) and distinguish
from the appetites deluded by an * apparent good *, resides in the
true self, the immortal part of the soul.1 When we find men
unable to control their desire for sensual pleasures, we should
recognise that such desire has a physical source, and that in many
individuals defects of inheritance and upbringing make it peculiarly
difficult for reason to gain control. We are not to treat them as
if their reason had from the outset deliberately chosen vice in
preference to virtue. Such a choice is contrary to the nature of
reason, and can only occur in the last stage of degradation when
reason itself has become perverted and wholly enslaved to appetite.
The condition is then past remedy.

The doctrine here is the same that is stated, for instance, at
Laws 731B. The Athenian observes that every man has need to
be both passionate and gentle. He needs passion if forced to
defend himself against the wrong-doing of others when this is harsh
and cruel, and to punish it when it is irremediable. ' But when
men commit wrongs that are remediable, one should recognise that
no wrong-doer does wrong willingly. For no one would ever
willingly take to himself any of the worst evils, least of all in the
most precious thing that belongs to him ; and to all men the most
precious thing is the soul. So no one will voluntarily admit the
worst evil into this most precious thing and live in the possession
of it all his life long. In general the wrong-doer and he who has
these evils is to be pitied, and it is permissible to show pity to the
man whose evils are remediable, to restrain one's anger, and treat

1 The distinction between ‘ wish ’ (fiovXrjats) and ‘ doing what seems good
to you ’ is drawn in the Gorgias, 467. Aristotle retains the term at E.N. iii, 4,

* In the absolute sense the true object of wish (fovX rjats) is that which is good ;
but each man .finds it in what seems good to him.’ The sole judge is the
virtuous man * whose superiority lies precisely in his seeing the truth \ That
the immortal part of the soul is the true self is stated at Laws 959B and
repeated by Aristotle, E.N. x, 7, 1178a, 2, and ix, 8, 11686, 35.

348

DISPROPORTION OF SOUL AND BODY

him gently, and not to keep on raging like a scolding wife ; although
in dealing with one who is totally and obstinately perverse and
wicked one must give free rein to anger/ This doctrine, which
no one doubts to be Plato's own, is repeated at Laws ix, 86od,
and there brought into relation with the more ordinary use of the
terms ‘ voluntary * and ‘ involuntary \ By calling all wrongdoing
‘ involuntary ', it is not meant that the law can disregard the
distinction between doing an act on purpose and doing it by accident.
The legal character of an act depends on its spirit and principle.
The law must aim at curing evil intentions and inflict death only
on the incurable. The doctrine of the Laws is in harmony with
our passage. The evils here described are to be pitied because
their origin lies in causes at work when a man cannot have begun
to exercise rational control, and they are remediable if taken in
hand before he becomes * totally and obstinately wicked \ This
is the answer to the criticism that Timaeus leaves out of account
* real wickedness * and ‘ conceive of no wickedness that is more
than weakness \1 The passage is not concerned with the ingrained
and irremediable vice which calls for punishment or extermination.
A physical treatise may confine itself to hygiene. All that is
needed is the mild preventive remedies described in the next
paragraphs.

87B-89D. Disproportion between soul and body , to be remedied by
regimen and exercise

This is not the place to pursue further the topic touched upon
in the last sentence — the corrupting influences of an ill-governed
society and the reform in education needed to correct them. That
belongs to a moral and political work like the Republic ; the Timaeus
is a physical discourse, and Plato returns here to the living creature
as a compound of soul and body, and in particular to the disorders
due to a lack of proportion between the two components. These
are to be corrected, not by the violent action of drugs, but by
giving both soul and body the regimen and exercise they severally
need.

87B. This subject, however, belongs to another kind of discourse ;

c. here it is natural and fitting to set forth, on the opposite
side, the countervailing treatment, the means whereby body
and mind are kept in health ; for it is right to dwell upon
good rather than upon evil.

Now the good is always beautiful, and the beautiful never
disproportionate ; accordingly a living creature that is to

1 Tr., p. 615.

P.C. 349 A A

DISPROPORTION OF SOUL AND BODY 87b-89d

87c. possess these qualities must be well-proportioned. Pro-
portions of a trivial kind we readily perceive and compute ;

D. but the most important and decisive escape our reckoning.
For health or sickness, goodness or badness, the proportion
or disproportion between soul and body themselves is more
important than any other ; yet we pay no heed to this and
do not observe that when a great and powerful soul has for
its vehicle a frame too small and feeble, or again when the
two are ill-matched in the contrary way, the creature as a
whole is not beautiful, since it is deficient in the most
important proportions ; while the opposite condition is to
him who can discern it the fairest and loveliest object of
contemplation.1 Just as a body that is out of proportion

E. because the legs or some other members are too big, is not
only ugly, but in the working of one part with another brings
countless troubles upon itself with much fatigue and frequent
falls due to awkward convulsive movement, so is it, we
must suppose, with the composite creature we call an animal.
When the soul in it is too strong for the body and of ardent

88. temperament, she dislocates the whole frame and fills it with
ailments from within ; she wastes it away, when she throws
herself into study and research ; in teaching and controversy,
public or private, she inflames and racks its fabric through
the rivalries and contentions that arise, and bringing on
rheums deludes most so-called physicians into laying the
blame on the unoffending part.2 On the other hand, when
a large body, too big for the soul, is conjoined with a small
and feeble mind, whereas the appetites natural to man are
b. of two kinds — desire of food for the body and desire of
wisdom for the divinest part in us — the motions of the
stronger part prevail and, by augmenting their own power
while they make the powers of the soul dull and slow to
learn and forgetful, they produce in her the worst of maladies,
stupidity.

Now against both these dangers there is one safeguard :
not to exercise the soul without the body, nor yet the body
without the soul, in order that both may hold their own and

1 Language and thought echo the passage describing the love of a beautiful
person as the climax of musical education at Rep. 402D : * when noble dis-
positions in the soul are combined in harmony with congruent features of
outward form, this is the fairest object of contemplation for one who has
eyes to see it . . . and the fairest is also the loveliest \

1 Note that the soul has its characteristic form of intemperance, which
deranges the body, no less than the intemperance of the body, considered in
the last section, disorders the soul.

350

REGIMEN AND EXERCISE

8c. prove equally balanced and sound. So the mathematician
or one who is intensely occupied with any other intellectual
discipline must give his body its due meed of exercise by
taking part in athletic training ; while he who is industrious
in moulding his body must compensate his soul with her
proper exercise in the cultivation of the mind and all higher
education ; so one may deserve to be called in the true
sense a man of noble breeding.1 The several parts also
should be cared for on the same principle, in imitation of
d. the universal frame. For as our body is heated and cooled
within by the things that enter it, and again is dried and
moistened by what is outside, and suffers affections con-
sequent upon disturbances of both these kinds, if a man
surrenders his body to these motions in a state of rest, it is
overpowered and ruined. But if he will imitate what we
have called the foster-mother and nurse of the universe 2
and never, if possible, allow the body to rest in torpor ; if
he will keep it in motion and, by perpetually giving it a
shake, constantly hold in check the internal and external
E. motions in a natural balance ; if by thus shaking it in
moderation, he will bring into orderly arrangement, one
with another, such as we described in speaking of the universe,
those affections and particles that wander according to their
affinities about the body ; then he will not be leaving foe
ranged by foe to engender warfare and disease in his body,
but will have friend ranged by the side of friend for the
production of health.

9. Of motions, again, the best is that motion which is pro-
duced in oneself by oneself, since it is most akin to the move-
ment of thought and of the universe ; motion produced by
another is inferior ; and worst of all is that whereby, while
the body lies inert, its several parts are moved by foreign
agents. Accordingly, of all modes of purifying or bracing 3
the body, the best is gymnastic exercise ; next best the
swaying motion of a boat or carriage which causes no
fatigue ; while a third kind, though sometimes useful in
extreme necessity, should in no other case be employed
B. by a man of sense ; I mean medical purgation by drugs.
Disorders should not be irritated by drugs, save where

1 opOu>s, ‘ in the true sense ', not according to the vulgar use of koXos
for an upper-class person. But the words also bear their literal sense : the
beauty and goodness characteristic of the well-proportioned body and
mind (87c, d).

* Cf. 5 3 a. * owiaravai in this sense occurs in the medical writers.

351

CARE OF THE SOUL

89d-90d

there is grave danger. For in general any disease has a
settled constitution somewhat like that of living creatures.
The composition of the living creature is so ordered as to
have a regular period of life for the species in general 1 ; and
also each individual by itself is bom with its allotted span,
apart from inevitable accidents, since the triangles in every

c. creature are from the outset put together with the power to
hold out for a certain time, beyond which life cannot be
prolonged.2 It is the same with the constitution of diseases :
if this be deranged by drugs to the disregard of their destined
period, it often results that slight maladies become grave or
their number is increased. Hence, so far as leisure permits,
one should manage and control all complaints by regimen,

D. instead of irritating a stubborn mischief by drugs.

The emphasis laid on exercise and regimen, as against drugs, is
characteristic of the Sicilian school.8 In this, as in other matters,
they were followed by Diodes, who wrote a treatise on regimen.
Some long extracts preserved by Oribasius 4 give much wise advice
about diet and exercise, the preparation of food, and the care of
the body generally, which is in full accordance with Plato's recom-
mendations. The Republic had already dwelt upon the superiority
of preventive training to drastic remedies applied when the harm
was done, and also upon the need to bring the gentle and more
spirited elements of the soul into harmony by cultivating both so
as to correct the excesses of either.

89D-90D. Care of the soul

We now turn from the care of the whole living creature, and
especially of its bodily part, to the care of the soul and its training
for the rule it should bear. The main principle is one that was
already announced in the Republic. Each of the three parts of the
soul has its own legitimate sphere of interests and desires, and
none of them should be thwarted or suppressed. If the energy of

1 Cf. Ar., de gen et corr. 336b, 10 : ‘ The natural processes of passing-away
and coming-to-be occupy equal periods of time. Hence, too, the times — i.e.
the lives — of the several kinds of living things have a number by which they
are distinguished. For there is an Order controlling all things, and every
time (i.e. every life) is measured by a period ’ (trans. Joachim). Fraccaroli
and Tr. correctly explain that there is a fixed normal length of life for the
individuals of each species, and also a peculiar expectation of life for each
individual, according to his constitution.

2 Cf. the account of natural death, 8 id.

8 See the passage from Aristoxenus in Iambi., V.P. 163-4, quoted by Tr.,
p. 629.

4 Diodes, frag., 138 ff., Wellmann.

352

CARE OF THE SOUL

the soul is directed too much into one of the three channels, it can
only be at the expense of the others. This doctrine had been so
fully developed in the Republic that only a brief reference to it is
needed here. The rest of the section is devoted to that innermost
desire of the divine part, which (as Diotima explains in the Sym-
posium) is the desire for the immortality or divinity that can be
regained by the pursuit of wisdom.

89D. Let this suffice for the treatment of the living creature as a
whole and of its bodily part, and the way in which a man may
best lead a rational life, both governing and being governed
by himself. Still more should precedence be given to the
training of the part that is destined to govern, so that it
may be as perfectly equipped as possible for its work of
governance. To treat of this matter in detail would in itself
e. be a sufficient task ; but, as a side issue, it may not be out
of place to determine the matter in conformity with what
has gone before, with these observations. As we have said
more than once, there dwell in us three distinct forms of
soul, each having its own motions. Accordingly, we may
say now as briefly as possible that whichever of these lives
in idleness and inactivity with respect to its proper motions
must needs become the weakest, while any that is in
constant exercise will be strongest ; hence we must take
90. care that their motions be kept in due proportion one to
another.

As concerning the most sovereign form of soul in us we
must conceive that heaven has given it to each man as a
guiding genius — that part which we say dwells in the summit
of our body and lifts us from earth towards our celestial
affinity, like a plant whose roots are not in earth, but in the
heavens. And this is most true, for it is to the heavens,
whence the soul first came to birth, that the divine part 1
attaches the head or root of us and keeps the whole body
B. upright. Now if a man is engrossed in appetites and
ambitions and spends all his pains upon these, all his thoughts
must needs be mortal and, so far as that is possible, he
cannot fall short of becoming mortal altogether, since he
has nourished the growth of his mortality. But if his heart
has been set on the love of learning and true wisdom and he
has exercised that part of himself above all, he is surely
c. bound to have thoughts immortal and divine, if he shall lay

1 to $€tov the divine part of us, as at c, 4. At 76B, to Oelov meant the
brain.

CARE OF THE SOUL

89d-90d

90c. hold upon truth, nor can he fail to possess immortality in
the fullest measure that human nature admits 1 ; and
because he is always devoutly cherishing the divine part
and maintaining the guardian genius that dwells with him
in good estate, he must needs be happy 2 above all. Now
there is but one way of caring for anything, namely to give
it the nourishment and motions proper to it. The motions
akin to the divine part in us are the thoughts and revolutions
d. of the universe ; these, therefore, every man should follow,
and correcting those circuits in the head that were deranged
at birth, by learning to know the harmonies and revolutions
of the world, he should bring the intelligent part, according
to its pristine nature, into the likeness of that which intelli-
gence discerns, and thereby win the fulfilment of the best
life set by the gods before mankind both for this present
time and for the time to come.

The passion for wisdom, the characteristic desire of the immortal
soul, is symbolised in the Phaedrus by the wings which Psyche must
receive from Eros. ' It is the function of wings to raise aloft that
which is heavy to the region where the gods dwell. There is no
bodily part that has more kinship with the divine ; and the divine
is beauty, wisdom, goodness/ In our passage Plato connects this
thought with his earlier account of the revolution and harmony of
the heavens, after whose likeness we must re-establish the disordered
movements of the incarnate soul. What lifts us towards our
celestial affinity is the genius or daemon residing in the head ; and
that Eros is a daemon , between mortal and immortal, we learnt in
the Symposium. 1 So in this tree of man, whose nervie root Springs
in his top spiritual sustenance is drawn from contemplation of
the heavens, as a plant draws its food from the earth. The life of
reason can be fully enjoyed only after death when the spirit is
released from the distractions of bodily needs 3 ; but our business
here is to partake of immortality in the fullest measure that our
mortal nature will admit. Our passage is echoed in Aristotle's
final definition of human happiness (evdcu/uovia) :

* If, then, among the forms of virtuous action, war and politics,
although they stand out as pre-eminent in nobility and greatness,
are yet unleisured and directed towards a further end instead of

1 Reading avdpaynlvr) <f>vcns with APY. Cf . ,69 A, Kad' ouov rjfjLOJV 17 <f>vois t
The reading of F avBporrrivjj <f>vaei creates a hiatus with ddavaaias following
and can be explained as intended to yield a commoner construction.

* The connection between ev-balpuav (literally having a good balp, a>v = luck)
with baifuav — guardian genius cannot be reproduced.

• Phaedo 66e. Cf. Theaet.

DIFFERENTIATION OF THE SEXES

being desired for their own sakes, while the activity of reason,
on the other hand, when it is speculative, appears to be superior
in serious worth, to aim at no end beyond itself, and to contain
a pleasure which is peculiar to it and so enhances the activity ;
and if self-sufficiency, leisuredness, and such freedom from weari-
ness as is possible to humanity, together with all the other
attributes of felicity, are found to go with this activity ; — then,
perfect happiness for man will lie in this, provided it be granted
a complete span of life ; for nothing that belongs to happiness
is incomplete.

Such a life as this, however, is higher than the measure of
humanity ; not in virtue of his humanity will man lead this
life, but in virtue of something within him that is divine ; and
by as much as this something is superior to his composite nature,
by so much is its activity superior to the rest of virtue. If, then,
reason is divine in comparison with man, so is the life of reason
divine in comparison with human life. We ought not to listen
to those who exhort man to keep to man’s thoughts, or a mortal
to the thoughts of mortality, but, so far as may be, to achieve
immortality and do what man may to live according to the highest
thing that is in him ; for little though it be in bulk, in power and
worth it is far above all the rest ’ (Nic. Eth. x, 7, 7).

At this point, where the discourse of Timaeus has reached its
climax, the thought recurs to his affirmation at the opening (29E)
that the divine is not moved by any jealousy to withhold from the
world or from man any perfection of which their nature is capable.
Reason has endowed the world with harmony and beauty, and man
with the capacity to reproduce them in himself. As the Epinomis
(988A) urges, the study of the heavens, which the Athenians, under
the influence of ‘ the Greeks’ fear that it is wrong for mortal man
to busy himself with things divine ’, had proscribed as tending to
atheism, ought rather to lead to the worship of the heavenly
bodies themselves, a nobler religion than the established cult which
had come from the barbarians. The divine power is not displeased
by man’s ability to learn, but feels ‘ a joy free from jealousy ’ at
his becoming good with heaven’s aid.

90E-92C. The differentiation of the sexes. The lower animals

I have already (p. 292) suggested a possible reason why Plato
relegates the differentiation of the sexes and the formation of the
lower animals to this appendix. The highest form of Eros, the
passion for divine wisdom and immortality, was dwelt upon in the
last section. Its seat is the brain, at the head of the column of

DIFFERENTIATION OF THE SEXES 90e-92c

spinal marrow. The marrow is also the seed, the means by which
the species maintains its immortality in time, as life is transmitted
from one mortal individual to another. Provision has now to be
made for this ' Eros of sexual intercourse \ by giving the seed an
outlet and forming the male and female parts of generation. If
my suggestion was right, Plato may wish to indicate that sexual
passion is not the fundamental form of Eros, but an accidental
appanage of existence in time. The individual human being
requires all the faculties and functions that have hitherto been
described ; but he could be imagined as complete without the
organs of sex, which are added only for the sake of the species.1
The organs are fantastically described as if they were additional
‘ living creatures ' appended to the already finished form of the
human animal.

And now, it would seem, we have fairly accomplished the
task laid upon us at the outset : to tell the story of the
universe so far as to the generation of man. For the manner
in which the other living creatures have come into being,
brief mention shall be enough, where there is no need to
speak at length ; so shall we, in our own judgment, rather
preserve due measure in our account of them.

Let this matter, then, be set forth as follows. Of those
who were bom as men, all that were cowardly and spent
their life in wrongdoing were, according to the probable
91. account, transformed at the second birth into women ; for
this reason it was at that time that the gods constructed
the desire of sexual intercourse, fashioning one creature
instinct with life in us, and another in women. The two
were made by them in this way. From the conduit of our
drink, where it receives liquid that has passed through the
lungs by the kidneys into the bladder and ejects it with the
air that presses upon it, they pierced an opening communicat-
ing with the compact 2 marrow which runs from the head
down the neck and along the spine and has, indeed, in our

b. earlier discourse been called ‘ seed '.3 This marrow, being
instinct with life and finding an outlet, implanted in the
part where this outlet was a lively appetite for egress and

1 At Laws 783A the desires for food and drink are implanted from birth ;
sexual eros is said to arise later. Plato apparently thought that this form of
desire dates from puberty.

* av^Tr€rrr^y6ra, forming one connected column, as contrasted with the
marrow isolated in other bones.

* At 73c, 748, 86c. At de gen . anim. 7 35a, 7, Aristotle says that the semen
both has soui and is soul potentially.

THE LOWER ANIMALS

91 b. so brought it to completion as an Eros of begetting.1
Hence it is that in men the privy member is disobedient and
self-willed, like a creature that will not listen to reason, and
because of frenzied appetite bent upon carrying all before it.

c. In women again, for the same reason, what is called the
matrix or womb, a living creature within them with a desire
for child-bearing, if it be left long unfruitful beyond the due
season, is vexed and aggrieved, and wandering throughout
the body and blocking the channels of the breath, by for-
bidding respiration brings the sufferer to extreme distress
and causes all manner of disorders ; until at last the Eros
of the one and the Desire of the other 2 bring the pair

D. together, pluck as it were the fruit from the tree 3 and sow
the ploughland of the womb with living creatures still
unformed and too small to be seen, and again differentiating
their parts 4 nourish them till they grow large within, and
thereafter by bringing them to the light of day accomplish
the birth of the living creature. Such is the origin of women
and of all that is female.

The lower animals. — The created gods now finish their appointed
task by fashioning the remaining classes of living creatures : the
birds of the air, land animals, and fishes. Timaeus’ discourse has
been concerned with the universe and with the nature of man, not
with the whole field of natural history. So the lower animals can
be briefly disposed of. Their forms are regarded as degraded types,

1 rovd * j ]rrep dve7Tvevo€v ... rov yewav epcora dnereXeaev.. The only
satisfactory construction for tovto is as object of direr eXeoev. Sexual desire
is regarded concretely as a ‘ living creature ’ with a life of its own (epupvxov,
a, 1-2). The gods open the communication from the channel of the drink
to the living marrow or seed, which then itself produces the phallus, ‘ complet-
ing this part where it has found an outlet as an Eros of begetting \ The
phallus is an embodiment (or dyaXp.a) of this male Eros. I should not suggest
this if the whole passage were not so fantastic, especially the latter part
where the womb is called ‘ a living creature desirous of child-bearing * — the
female counterpart of the male Eros — which is actually said to * wander
about the body \ In the Symposium Eros personified governs a genitive ;
e.g. 200E, €otlv 6 Epcos tlvcov, * Love is (love of) some object \

2 17 entdvfjLLa (feminine), the female eiudvpL'qriKov rrjs ircuhoirouas, and

o epws (masculine), the male epws rov ycwdv. The two co-operate, Eros
sowing the seed, *Em6vp.la nursing and bringing to birth.

8 Cf. 86c, where excess of seed was compared to overabundance of fruit
on a tree. The condition is relieved by the plucking of the fruit. The
marrow is, as it were, an inverted tree, with the brain for its root (90A) and
the spinal column for its trunk. Democritus (Diels-Kranz, Vors* 68b, 5,
p. 137, 13) spoke of plants and trees having their head rooted in earth.

* hiCLKplvavres, cf. Orib. iii, 78 = Diokles, frag. 175, Wellm. rrepl he ras
apas ewcahas oparai rrpd>rov hia.KeKpip.evov oXov to od>p.a ( rd)v

357

CONCLUSION

92c

for the sake of the mythical doctrine of punishment by transmigra-
tion, announced to the souls before their first birth at 42c. The
three classes correspond to the three parts of the soul, which the
men condemned to such degradation have respectively misused.

91D. Birds were made by transformation : growing feathers
instead of hair, they came from harmless but light-witted
men, who studied the heavens but imagined in their simplicity

E. that the surest evidence in these matters comes through the
eye.

Land animals came from men who had no use for philosophy
and paid no heed to the heavens because they had lost the
use of the circuits in the head and followed the guidance of
those parts of the soul that are in the breast. By reason of
these practices they let their fore limbs and heads be drawn
down to earth by natural affinity and there supported, and
their heads were lengthened out and took any sort of shape
92. into which their circles were crushed together through
inactivity. On this account their kind was born with four
feet or with many, heaven giving to the more witless the
greater number of points of support, that they might be all
the more drawn earthwards. The most senseless, whose
whole bodies were stretched at length upon the earth, since
they had no further need of feet, the gods made footless,
crawling over the ground.

b. The fourth sort, that live in water, came from the most
foolish and stupid of all. The gods who remoulded their
form thought these unworthy any more to breathe the pure
air, because their souls were polluted with every sort of
transgression ; and in place of breathing the fine and clean
air, they thrust them down to inhale the muddy water of
the depths. Hence came fishes and shell-fish and all that
lives in the water ; in penalty for the last extreme of folly
they are assigned the last and lowest habitation. These are

c. the principles on which, now as then, all living creatures
change one into another, shifting their place 1 with the loss or
gain of understanding or of folly.

92c. Conclusion

The closing sentence observes that, with the formation of the
three lower kinds of animal, the World has now become what the

1 fierafiaWofjieva . Cf. Laws 903°* 904c, for fimpoXal, meaning promotion
or degradation to a higher or lower region, determined by the trend of our
desires and consequent character.

CONCLUSION

Demiurge set out to make : the unique visible image of its model,
namely, ' that (intelligible) Living Creature which embraces and
contains within itself all the intelligible living creatures, just as
this (visible) world contains ourselves and all other creatures that
have been formed as things visible ' (30c).

92c. Here at last let us say that our discourse concerning the
universe has come to its end. For having received in full
its complement of living creatures, mortal and immortal,
this world has thus become a visible living creature embracing
all that are visible and an image of the intelligible,1 a per-
ceptible god, supreme in greatness and excellence, in beauty
and perfection, this Heaven single in its kind and one.

1 Understand (with Tr.) £qjov oparov ra opara (£cpa) TrepUxov, et/ca/v tov voyrod
(£<£ou), in accordance with 30c, d and 39E. Cf. Tim. Locr. 105A, Koapai)
avfnrenXrjpcjpLdvco €K deatv re /cat avdpa>Tru)v twp re aXXojv ^(pcov, oaa SeSapuovpyarai
iTOT* eiKOva rav apLarav ctSeoy ayewaroi /cat alojvlm /cat voarcu. For the reading
vorjrov (not 7toit]tov) see Tr.'s note.

EPILOGUE

Throughout the myth of creation here concluded we have watched
the divine Reason bringing intelligible order into the world in so
far as he could persuade Necessity to co-operate. I urged that, if
Plato’s words are not to be robbed of all meaning, Necessity must
be recognised as standing for a factor in the existing world never
completely subdued by Reason. Further, if this Reason can be
identified with the reason in the World-Soul itself, that other factor
can hardly be anything but an irrational element in the World-Soul,
the source of wandering motions. There is at all times some
chaos within the cosmos. Becoming was imaged as the child of
a father and a mother, who correspond to Heaven and Earth, the
first parents of more primitive myth. The father is from above,
Olympian ; the mother from beneath ; and one of her names is
Necessity. Already in Homer Zeus and the other Olympians are
confronted by a power they cannot subordinate, called Destiny or
Fate. Like Plato’s Demiurge, the Homeric gods are not omni-
potent ; and it seems impossible to deduce from Homer any
coherent account of the relation between their will and the thwarting
opposition of Destiny. Here Homer left an unsolved problem to
be grappled with by the only religious genius of classical Greece
who can take rank with Plato. It is no accident that the greatest
work of Aeschylus, the Oresteia, culminates in the reconciliation of
Zeus and Destiny ; and that the reconciliation is effected by
divine Reason, in the person of Athena,1 persuading the daughters
of Necessity to co-operate in her beneficent purposes.

In the introductory conversation Plato has provided a clue
which may lead our thoughts back to the closing scene of the
Eutnenides. The legend of Atlantis, as Socrates remarks, is a theme
well suited to the festival of Athena which is the occasion of the
present meeting. The formal speeches delivered at the Panathenaea
regularly recalled the leadership of Athens in the victory of Hellas
over the barbarian invaders in the Persian wars. So, in Critias’

1 The identification of Athena with wisdom [ifipovijots) goes back to the
earliest allegorical interpretation of Homer by Theagenes of Rhegium, and
was familiar to Plato, who says that, according to many interpreters of
Homer, she is votis n /cat Siavoia, ffeov votjuls, a deovoa [Crat. 407B).

36X

EPILOGUE

legend, the idealised city of Athena, the only city ever ruled by
reason incarnate in the lovers of wisdom, had led the Greek resistance
against the hosts of Atlantis. In the next dialogue those inhabitants
of the outer ocean are represented as filled with the insolence of
riches and luxury. Their god is Poseidon, with whom their kings
identify themselves by a sinister ritual, drinking the blood of a
sacrificed bull. The contest of Athena and Poseidon 1 was figured
on the western pediment of the Parthenon, which looks towards
Salamis. The story of Atlantis, the central piece of Plato's triptych,
is yet another symbol of the contest of reason with the ocean of
lawless desires. The two forces met in unreconciled opposition,
and both were overwhelmed together by flood and earthquake.
The theme of civilised freedom triumphant over barbarism and
tyranny was repeated in other sculptures of the Parthenon : the
battles of Greeks and Amazons, of Lapiths and Centaurs, and, on
the metopes of the eastern front, the battle of Gods and Giants.
Here Athena stood in the centre beside her father Zeus, who blasted
his enemies with the thunderbolt in a victory of superior force.

But, as Aeschylus knew, the triumphs of superior force are apt
not to be final. In the dynastic succession of the gods themselves,
Cronos had overthrown Ouranos, and himself been overthrown by
Zeus ; but ‘ where is there any joy of deities who have gained
their awful throne by violence ? ' 2 One violent deed provokes
another in revenge. This thought dominates the first chorus of
the Agamemnon , which tells how the king at Aulis bowed his neck
beneath * the yoke of Necessity ' and started the disastrous train —
the sacrifice of his daughter, Clytemnestra’s revenge, Orestes'
divinely sanctioned murder of the murderess. The son, no less
than the mother, could claim to be doing the work of Justice ; but,
if Justice means vengeance, where is this chain of dutiful crimes
to end ?

The answer is given in the Eumenides. Orestes, purified of
guilt by Apollo himself, can yet find no peace in his soul. He is
haunted and pursued by the Furies, hounded on by his mother's
ghost, demanding blood for blood. The issue is brought to trial
on the Hill of Ares, under the presidency of Athena, impersonating
the wisdom of Zeus. Apollo comes to champion the cause of
Orestes. He confronts the Furies with loathing and contempt.

1 The Critias (109B) mentions the division of regions among the gods, but
piously denies that it was ‘ by strife \ Shortly afterwards (c) comes the
phrase olov olclkl jradoi €<f>am6yL€voi used of the gods' shepherding of

mankind, in contrast with physical violence.

* Aesch., A gam. 192. The reading ScufLovcov tto€ x°-Pls pwUa)$ o4\fia <
v ; and the interpretation are suggested in Headlam’s note.

362

EPILOGUE

Neither party can yield an inch of its claim. Nor can human
justice reach a decision : the votes are equal. Both sides are in
the right, though both may also be in the wrong. Athena now gives
her casting vote for acquittal. Apollo vanishes ; he has no more
to say. The human protagonist, Orestes, is dismissed. The stage
is left to the unappeased and furious spirits of vengeance, daughters
of Night or of the Earth Mother, and, on the other side, Athena,
the motherless child of the Father. Divine Reason is face to face
with blind Necessity.

In wild confusion and desperate anger, the Furies threaten to
blast the soil of Athens and poison the very springs of life. Athena
turns to them, and her first words are : * Be persuaded by me .’
She offers them a sanctuary and worship in a cave under the
Hill of justice, where they may be transformed into powers of
fertility and blessing. At first they cannot listen, but go on crying
out for justice and revenge. Athena patiently repeats her offer.
She reminds them that she alone knows the keys of that chamber
where the thunderbolt is stored ; but ' there is no need of that
Violence will not remedy a situation that violence has created.
Suddenly the Furies are converted, when Athena addresses their
leader as follows :

' I will not weary of speaking good words. Never shall you
say that you, the elder goddess, were cast out of this land by me,
the younger, and by my mortal citizens, with dishonour.

‘ No ; if you have any reverence for unstained Persuasion, the
appeasement and soothing charm of my tongue — why then, stay
here.'

to this persuasion the daughters of Necessity yield at last. The
play ends with the song in which they promise fertility to the soil
f and citizens of Athena’s land, and with the cry of triumph :

* So Zeus and Destiny are reconciled/

Plato’s trilogy, had it been finished, would have stood out as
his masterpiece, throwing even the Republic into the shade.
Aeschylus’ masterpiece was finished ; and the Oresteia still holds
the supreme place in tragedy. The philosophic poet and the poet
philosopher are both consciously concerned with the enthronement
of wisdom and justice in human society. For each there lies, beyond
and beneath this problem, the antithesis of cosmos and chaos, alike
in the constitution of the world and within the confines of the
individual soul. On all these planes they see a conflict of powers,
whose unreconciled opposition entails disaster. Apollo and the
Furies between them can only tear the soul of Orestes in pieces.

363

EPILOGUE

The city of uncompromised ideals, the prehistoric Athens of Critias*
legend, in the death-grapple with the lawless violence of Atlantis,
goes down in a general destruction of mankind. The unwritten
Hermocrates , we conjectured, would have described the rebirth of
civilised society and the institution of a State in which the ideal
would condescend to compromise with the given facts of man's
nature. So humanity might find peace at the last. And the way
to peace, for Plato as for Aeschylus, lies through reconcilement of
the rational and the irrational, of Zeus and Fate, of Reason and
Necessity, not by force but by persuasion.

364

APPENDIX

2 2D, fjfuv dk 6 Nelkog elg rs x&KKa acurrjn xal rire ix tamrjg

When the inhabitants of mountainous and dry regions are des-
troyed by scorching drought, the Egyptians are preserved by the
Nile being 'set free' or' unloosed'. Both ancient and modern
commentators have been at a loss to understand from what the Nile
is set free at such times. We may also ask by what it is set free.

(a) If, as is commonly assumed, the conflagration is the agent,
there seems to be no sense in Porphyry’s suggestion (Proclus i,
11916), followed by Archcr-Hind, that the Nile is set free from the
fountains at its source. As Taylor says (p. 53), there is no apparent
reason why the Nile should be set free more copiously from such
fountains in a time of drought and heat than at other seasons.
On the supposition that heat is the cause, the only reasonable view
is that which Porphyry rejected : ‘ the melting of the snows (1}
%ia)v 1 vofi&rj) causes the abundance of water \ Porphyry, like
Proclus, could not believe in snow so near the equator. Here
they followed Herodotus (ii, 22), who knew no more than the
Egyptians whom he questioned about the snows and the rainy
season in Ethiopia. But the snow theory had been propounded
by Anaxagoras ( Vors .4 46A, 91), and Seneca remarks that it was
adopted by Aeschylus (Suppl. 565, Egypt is foi/at hv xiovofioaxog.
(paol yag hojaevrjg xiowg naga ’ Ivdolg nhrjgovodaL avrdv, Schol. ad loc.
Frag. 300), Sophocles (Frag. 797N = 882P. Why does Pearson
say the theory cannot have originated with Anaxagoras ?), and
Euripides (Hel. 3 ; Frag. 228). Headlam observes that the belief
was widely known and canvassed in antiquity and remained until
our own day for the truth of it to be proved by Sir Henry Stanley.
It might be argued that hvo/uevog, which can mean ‘ being melted '
as well as ‘ being set free ’, is a singularly appropriate word. One
reason which led Proclus to reject the snow theory was the state-
ment just below at e, 2, ' In this country the water does not fall
from above upon the fields either then or at other times ; its way
is always to rise up over them from below.’ This does not seem
to me to mean that the waters of the Nile well up from subterranean
sources, instead of being fed by melting snows ; but only that there
is no rain in Egypt, and the fields are watered by the inundation
of the rising Nile. Hence when rains from heaven flood other parts
of the earth, Egypt escapes destruction.

(b) Professor Stephen Glanville, when I consulted him, at once

p.c. 365

APPENDIX

suggested that the river was * unloosed \ not by the extreme heat,
but by human hands opening the artificial dams and sluices which
held up the water in normal times. Isocrates, Busins 13, contrasts
Egypt with other less fortunate regions, some of which are deluged
by rains, others devastated by droughts. The Nile puts the
Egyptian on a level with the gods with respect to the tilling of his
soil ; for whereas to all other peoples rains and droughts are dis-
pensed by Zeus, every Egyptian can control both these matters for
himself. Plato may have had this passage of the Busiris in mind.
It implies a universal system of irrigation. Is there possibly a
reference to this in Chalcidius’ paraphrase, aduersum huiusmodi
pericula meatu irriguo perennique gurgite obiectus arcet exitium ?
For irriguus meaning * irrigating ' cf. Virg., Georg, iv, 32, irriguumque
bibant violaria fontem ; Tib. ii, 1, 44, bibit irriguus fertilis hortus
aquas ; Ov., Am. ii, 16, 2, irriguis ora salubris aquis. Dr. Heichel-
heim has kindly informed me that, according to F. Hartmann,
V agriculture dans Vancienne Egypte (1923), 113#., the opening of
the dams before the flooding of the Nile is mentioned as a good
deed as early as the Book of the Dead. The irrigation system
must therefore go back to the beginning of dynastic times. Mr.
J. M. Edmonds writes that Tebtunis Papyri 49, 6, and 54, 16 (2nc
cent, b.c.), are quoted by Preisighe for ixAvco in the sense of letting
out the water by opening the sluices.

It is true that, if either of these interpretations is adopted,
kv6/jtevoQ remains rather obscure. But ?.v6]uevog is * the only reading
that has any real authority * (Taylor), and no tolerable correction
has been proposed. Cook-Wilson's avt-ofievog must be rejected.
There is no reason why such an obvious and intelligible word should
be corrupted ; and the hiatus ocptei av^o/bievog in the clausula is with-
out a parallel in this dialogue, where hiatus is very carefully avoided.

(2) 25D, did xat vvv & tzoqov xal ddiegevvrjrov ydyovev tovxel

xagra pgaxdog ifxnodojv oVrog, 8v rj vfjao[ ; i^ofxdvrj nagia%Exo.

xdgza pgaxdog is a modern reading attributed by Stallbaum to
Edit. Bas. 2. The MSS. have (1) xdgza fiaOiog A in an erasure, or
(2) Hard Pgaxdog Y, marg. A, xa zapgaxdog F, Proclus.

Archer-Hind defended xdgza pgaxdog as a possible, though
unparalleled, expression for ‘ very shoaly mud ’, i.e. mud covered
only by shallow water. As the Meteorologica 354a, 22, says, outside
the Pillars of Heracles there are ‘ shallows due to the mud ’ (pgaxda
<5 id zov nr]X6v). He rightly remarked that Pad dog is pointless :
* Surely the question that would interest a sailor is how near the
mud was to the surface ; its depth he would regard with profound
indifference.* I cannot follow Taylor’s reason for preferring paddog :
‘ the layer of mud is deep, and therefore abundant ; this is why the
navigation presents difficulties * Abundant * here must mean
‘ extensive ’ ; and why should Plato write ‘ very deep ' when he
meant ' very extensive ’ ? Deep mud need not be extensive. But

366

APPENDIX

I agree with Taylor against Archer-Hind that you cannot say
* shallow mud ’ when you mean ‘ mud covered by shallow water * ;
and it seems to me impossible to doubt that Plato did mean that.
Another objection, urged by Wilamowitz, is that xagxa is a tragic
word. This is said to be its only occurrence in Plato.

The whole trouble is due to the assumption that pgaxdog agrees
with nrjkov, and consequently that xaxa Pgaxdog is meaningless. The
mere fact that this reading should have been preserved, though
unintelligible to most readers, is in its favour, provided that it can
bear the sense required. I suggest that xaxd pgaxdog can mean ' at a
little depth \ * a little way down as xaxd pgayv means * to a small
extent ’, did pgaxdog ‘ at a short interval ', ngd Pgaxdog ' a short time
before ’, iv PgaxeT * in a short space \ xaxd with the genitive has
lost its original sense of motion in xaxd yfjg ‘ beneath the earth ’ or
xd xax* tfdaxog ‘ the part (of the building) underwater ’ (Hdt. ii, 149).
The nearest parallel, given me by Prof. Robertson, is Ar., Meteor.
3396, 12, xdv el xi xaxd pdQovg adr]hov tffjiTv icrciv * and any water there
may be hidden from sight at a (considerable) depth (in the earth) \
The same phrase is used metaphorically at 2 Cor. viii, 2, 7} xaxd
padovg Tcxcoyela..

The xarapgaxdog of F is an attempt to give the true reading some
sense and construction on the false assumption that Pgaxiog agrees
with mr)Xov. Wilamowitz {Platon ii, 387) supported xaxapgaxdog as a
new coinage of Plato’s, analogous to xaxonPgog , xaxaaxiog. Kdxoftpgog
means ‘ rained down upon ’ ; xaxaaxiog ‘ overshadowed ’ or ‘ over-
shadowing '. ‘ Over-shallowed mud ’ is not a very convincing

expression.

(3) 4 1 A, Qeol Qecb v, (bv iyd) drj/uiovgydg naxrjg xe igycov , di ijuov yevd/neva (threat
(ftov ye fti) eOdAovxog.

The above is Burnet’s text. In the first part of this famous
sentence, down to egycov, there is no sign of uncertainty about
the text in the MSS. or (so far as I know) in the ancient citations.
The variety of readings from that point onwards is probably
due to the difficulty of construing the sentence. After egycov
APYW read <2, but if this relative is retained there is no com-
plete sentence. If & is omitted with F (as by Burnet, Rivaud,
Taylor), the sentence can just be construed by understanding igycov
to stand for igya attracted into the case of &v : ‘ works of which I
am maker and father, having come to be by my own agency, are
indissoluble save with my consent ’. The attraction causes obscur-
ity ; ‘ having come to be by my own agency * seems rather redundant
after * works of which I am maker ' ; some reason has to be found
for the intrusion of a ; and we are still left with the main difficulty —
the meaning of Qeol Qewv. We know from Proclus that ancient
critics were puzzled about the sense and construction of the whole
sentence, and that the phrase Qeol Qecbv in particular bore to the
Greeks themselves no obviously certain meaning.

367

APPENDIX

(a) Some held that ‘ gods of gods ' means that the cosmic gods
(the heavenly bodies) are likenesses of the intelligible gods, just as
the whole cosmos is ‘ an agalma of the everlasting gods \ This is
obviously impossible, and the intelligible gods are a neo-Platonic
invention.

(b) Others held that ‘ the most universal Henads ’ are called gods
of the cosmic gods, as it were ‘ lords of lords ’, or ‘ kings of kings \
Linguistically this is (as Tr. remarks) the only defensible interpreta-
tion of the words Oeol Oecbv. Cf. Critias 12 1, Oebg 6 Oecbv Zevg. But
Proclus raises the obvious objection that all the gods, visible and
invisible, are included among those addressed. Archer-Hind’s
suggestion of rhetorical pomp — ‘ Gods of gods ’ signifying the
transcendent dignity of the celestial gods as first-fruits of creation —
is not supported by any satisfactory linguistic parallel.

(c) It is noteworthy that Proclus does not even mention the
interpretation ‘ Gods, sons of gods \ which satisfied the Latin
Cicero ( uos qui deornm satu orti esUs) and is favoured by some
moderns. Archer-Hind rightly objects that the only father of the
gods is the Demiurge himself ; ‘ the plural Oecbv is without propriety
or meaning ’. Tr. adds that there is nothing in the word Oeol to
indicate that the genitive is one of origin : Oeol Oecbv is as impossible
as binoi Inncov meaning ‘ horses sprung from horses \

The upshot is that neither ancient nor modern critics have
produced any satisfactory sense for deoi Oecbv. Badham’s emenda-
tion Oeol docov . . . egycov, are 6C i/xov xtX. creates an objectionable
hiatus between the first two words and will not commend itself to
anyone who observes the rhythm of the sentence. The whole
address is composed with exceptional care in markedly poetical
language. The dominant rhythm is Cretico-Paeonic. This is
established in the opening phrase, which is in pure Cretic metre :

Oeol Oecbv | cbv eyd> | dr)puovg\ydg narrjg t | egyeov.

Compare the opening of the De Corona : ngebrov /xev, <h avdgeg

* AQi'ivauoi, | rolg OeoXg | eib^oixai | naoi xai | naocug ,

which Dionysius illustrates by the grammarian’s stock Cretic verse :

Kgrjoioig | ev gvOfxoig | nalda fieX\\pa)fxev.

Aleman has a longer phrase of the same pattern :

*A<pgodl\ra fxkv ovx | eon, fxag\yog S’ "Egcog \ ola nalg | naladei.

The rhythm is continued in the rest of the sentence (keeping <5) :
d di i/j,ov | yeyofxev aAirr’ |
i/biov ye fx 9) \ ’ Odkovzog .

The closing phrase has a parallel in the epodes of Pindar, 01. ii :
io\kcbv yag vnb \ %ag/LidTojv | nfj/xa Ovdo \xei
naXiyxortov | dajxaoOev,1

1 Cf. also Simonides, frag. 31, Bgk, 88 Edmonds, a poem in a mixture of
metres : Kprjrd fuv koA covot rponov, 1 1 TO S’ opyavov \ MoXoaaov .

368

APPENDIX

The whole sentence, in fact, is practically in Cretico-Paeonic verse ;
and the rest of the speech could be reduced to a lyrical passage in
a mixture of metres, not very unlike a strophe in the Second
Olympian. In such a passage Plato might well adopt an order of
words or a compressed construction which would not be quite
natural in unrhythmical prose.

Since Qeol Becov has no acceptable meaning, it remains to try the
expedient of detaching Becov from Beol and placing the comma before
Becov instead of after it. This was done by some ancient critics,
who, according to Proclus (iii, 20228), connected Becov with the
following words, taking the whole as Beol, dov Becov iyco drjfuovgydQ.
Proclus does not tell us what reading these critics adopted in the
rest of the sentence ; but his own criticism shows that he understood
them as making Becov simply a repetition of Oeol: ‘ Gods, of which gods
I am maker i.e. ‘ Gods, of whom I am maker \ It is hard to
believe that anyone could credit Plato with writing Oeol, Be cov <bv
when he meant no more than ‘ Gods, of whom ’. But they may
have been right to detach Becov from Beol. BeoL by itself is no more
abrupt than Oeol Becov or the ywaixeg at the beginning of a tragic
rhesis.

Suppose, then, that we punctuate : Qeol , Becov cov eyco drjfxiovgyog
Tiaxrjg x* ggycov and understand this as a compressed form of Beol ,
Becov cov iyco drj/xiovgyog egycov re (cov eyco) naxrjg. This would be quite
intelligible if the words were in that order ; we have only to suppose
that Tiaxrjg t’ egycov is substituted for igycovxe jiaxrjg for the sake of
the metre. Translate : * Gods, of gods of whom I am maker and
of works the father \ This leaves the genitives requiring some
subject to govern them. After egycov appear the first signs of con-
fusion in the MSS. and citations : a APYW, om. F., xade margin of
A. The simplest remedy is to read xa for a and to take xa di ejaov
yevofiev a as the subject governing Becov egycov xe : 4 Gods, of gods of
whom I am maker and of works the father, those which are my own
handiwork are indissoluble, save with my consent.’ ‘ Gods and
works of which I am father and maker ’ means the whole universe —
the created gods and all the other works of the Demiurge who is
4 maker and father of this universe ’ (28c) and has just been called
6 x6de to nav yevvrjcrag (41 a). Similarly at 69c the Demiurge is said
to have framed the whole universe as a living creature containing
all other living creatures mortal and immortal ; ‘ and of the divine
he was himself the maker, while the task of making mortals he
laid upon his own offspring So here, among all the creatures
making up the world, some are made directly by the Demiurge
himself — all those works, in fact, which have been created up to
this point : the soul and body of the divine universe and the
heavenly gods. These are xa Si e/xov yevd/ieva — ‘ the works of my
own hands And this sentence tells us that they are indissoluble
save by his consent. This gives the words <5 1 ijaov yevdjaeva a valid
and appropriate sense. They cease to be a mere repetition of cov

369

APPENDIX

Sy<b SrjfuovQydg, so that they might as well be omitted. Probably
it was because & 61 Spov yevd^ev a appeared to be a mere repetition
that it was omitted in some ancient citations. This reading and
interpretation have the advantage over some others of making the
first sentence a general statement which does not anticipate the
next, where it is applied to the created gods, who though not
strictly indissoluble, will not in fact be dissolved.

Archer-Hind suggested reading ra for 3 as a milder expedient than
Badham’s to produce a complete sentence with a subject rd dC dpiov
yevdpeva and a predicate dXvra {dorl) . But, not knowing that F
omits d, he hesitated to alter the text ; and he did not see that the
main difficulty, deoi Oecov, could be cured by making Oecbv a partitive
genitive.

(4) 52 c, rdbfidg kdyeiv, cog sIxovl /adv, enelneq ovd* avrd rovro &q>* $ ydyovev
davrfjg dcrriv, drdqov 6 b nvog del (pdgerai (pavraajua , did ravra £v dreqcp
nQoarjxei Ttvi ytyveaQai . . .

The difficulty here lies in the phrase avrd rovro £<p * $ ydyovev.

(а) Archer-Hind boldly declared that the construction seemed
to him 4 a very simple and very Platonic ayfjiia nqd g to arifxaivofjievov.
What is meant by avrd rovro dqf cb ydyovev ? Of course the naqabeiypia,
and the whole phrase governs davrfjg just as if nagadeiypia had been
written : ‘ since it is not the original-upon-which-it-is-modelled of
itself \

If the words would bear this construction, the sense would be
reasonably good. But proof is needed that dcpy & ydyovev can be
equivalent to <J> etxacrrai or aycojiiolcorai, and I know of no instance
of eni with the dative in this sense. Also why should davrfjg be
there at all ?

(б) Cook- Wilson, approved by Taylor, took the phrase to mean
‘ the very thing it was meant for ', ' what it was meant to be ',
namely an image. So the whole phrase is equivalent to elxwv and
governs davrfjg : ' since it is not the very-thing-it-was-meant-for of
itself \ Wilamowitz {Platon ii, 392) interpreted in a similar way,
but with much hesitation. Ritter {Platon ii, 265) : ein Bild , weil
dieses nicht einmal in dem was es leisten soil selbstandig ist. Susemihl
(cit. Ritter, ibid.) : nicht einmal seinen Zweck, um dessen willen es
entstanden ist, in sich selber hat.

The words can certainly bear the meaning suggested ; but it is
hard to believe that Plato would write such a phrase when all he
meant was elxcbv. Why not write simply inelneg ov% davrfjg iori
{sc. (pdvraofia) , drdgov 6d rivog del (pdgerai (pdvraofjia ? But the real
objection is that the resulting sense is wrong. If an image wer^
an image of itself — a supposition which borders on nonsense- -it
would require a medium in which to exist just as much as it does
being an image of something else.

{c) I suggest that avrd rovro dtp* cb ydyovev means ' the very principle
(or condition or terms) on which it comes to be \ This is a natural

370

APPENDIX

and common sense of ini with the dative, iavrrjg is a possessive
genitive. An image comes to be on the same principle or condition
as a reflection, which requires an object to cast it and a medium
(dAkorgla idga, Rep. 51 6b) to contain it. These conditions do not
lie within or belong to the image itself. The genitive can be illus-
trated by Phaedo 92D, ‘ We agreed that the soul exists before enter-
ing the body as surely as the being we call " essence ” belongs to it *
(otf rcog . . . cbaneq avrfjg iariv ovala xrX).

Exception might be taken to the reflexive iavrrjg ; but it can
be defended, particularly since elxcbv is the subject of yiyovev
immediately preceding iavrrjg , though not of the main verb iariv,
and continues as the subject of cpegerai. Mr. J. E. Powell, whom
I consulted, kindly sent me the following note on this point. ‘ The
nearest passages I know to the text as it stands are those discussed
in my Studies (C.Q. xxvii, 221, and xxviii, 173). These show —
and a collection of reflexives from fourth-century authors, especially
Aristotle, would swell the list enormously — that the reflexive need
not always refer to the grammatical, nor even the logical, subject ;
and in the passage of Aristotle quoted [Rhct. i, 5, 7, oqog . . . rov
olxeia elvai rj firj, Srav icp* avrq) (vel iavrcq) ahXorQicboai, ‘ when it is
in one’s own power to alienate ’] it would be impossible, as it is
in Timaeus 52c, to construct a sentence in which both subject and
reflexive would refer to the same thing. From a purely gram-
matical standpoint, therefore, I do not think the text can be
proved false, though the value of MS. authority on the question
of an Attic reflexive is always low.’ Reflexives not referring to
the subject are found at 73 b, ravra 6 deog and rcbv iavrcbv Exaora
yevedv dnoxglvov, 89 a, tojv xivi^aecov rj iv iavrep vq? avrov aqiart]

xlvrjoig, 85 c, Srav (rj to rd>v Ivcbv yevog ix rrjg iavrcbv diaqoqfj ra£ecog.

The temptation to substitute in avrfj ( penes ipsam) for iavrrjg should
be resisted. The reference in Proclus, in Parm. 129A (p. 170,
Cousin) : ovde yag iv iavrfj iariv ?5 elxwv , xaQoaov iariv , cog (prjaiv
( Tlfjiaiog ), elxcbv, aAA’ ebaneq <5AAot> iariv, otircog aqa xal iv aAAa> iariv,
is indecisive, and would not really warrant our writing yiyovev
<iv> iavrfj iariv.

INDEX

Adamant, 251

Adrastus on geometrical propor-
tion, 45

Aeschylus, Eumenides, 361 ff.
meaning of, 99 ff.

319

Armillary sphere made by Demi-
urge, 74

Astronomy in Rep. vii, 81
Atlantis, 18

Atomism, absence of moving cause
in, 168

Attraction of amber and load-
stone, denied, 326

Beasts as degraded types, 357
Becoming, cause of, 22, 26
ambiguity of, 24

Being and Becoming contrasted,
22, 24 ff.

Bile, a morbid product, 337
Blood consists of digested food,

327

Bone, 295
Bowels, 291
Brain, 293

Causes :
accessory —

contrasted with purpose,
156 ff., 172

not completely subdued to
Reason, 209

necessary and divine, 279
Central Fire :

in Pythagorean system, 12 1 if.
not mentioned by Plato, 124,
265

at centre of Earth, 126

Chaos :

taken over by Demiurge, 35
described, 197 ff.
an abstraction, 203
Circular Thrust, 315 ff.

Circulation of blood, 327
Colours, 276

Concord of musical sounds,
320 ff.

Critias, 1

Cube numbers, 46 ff.

symbolising body in three
dimensions, 68

Death, natural, 329
Demiurge, 34 ff.
not omnipotent, 36
required as moving cause, 197
Destructions of mankind, periodic,
15

Determinism, not complete in
Atomism, 169

Difference, three kinds of, 60 ff.
Different :

circle of, 72 ff.

symbol of true belief, 95
in human soul, 148
motion of :

a single motion, 82, 112
identical with actual move-
ment of Sun, 83
Digestion, 327
Diodes, 334
Diseases, 332 ff.

settled course of, 352
Divination, 288

= square, or square root, 46
= active property of body,
53

373

INDEX

Earth :

rotation of, 120 ff.
streams inside, 331
iyxtiQfttjov, 309
Egypt, caste system, 17

the circle of the year,

104

: counter - revolu-
tion of outer planets, 88,
135
Eros :

desire for immortality, 292
as love of wisdom, 354
Errant Cause, 160 ff.

Eternity, 98, 102
Eudoxus, 87, 92, 1 16
Existence, three kinds of, 60 ff.

Fish-trap, 308
Flesh, 296

uneven distribution of, 297
Forms :

extent of, in Timaeus, 41, 189,
191

of primary bodies, 1 88
defined, 192

do not enter space, 192, 194
Freezing, 253

Geometrical Proportion, 44 ff.
Great Year, 116

Hair, 300

Hard and Soft, 260, 262
Head, spherical, containing soul-
circles, 150
Hearing, 275, 321 ff.

Heart, seat of spirited part of soul,
282

Heavy and Light, 262 ff.
Hermocrates, 2

Hermocrates , projected contents
of, 7

Hot and Cold, 259
Human Race, without beginning
in time, 145

Infancy, condition of soul in, 147

Involuntary wrong-doing, 343 ff.
Irrigation system, 303 ff.

Juices, 254

Jupiter, annual movement of, 85
, 3°8

| Leonardo da Vinci, 330
Like knows Like, 64, 94, 97
I Like moves to Like, in Atomism,
169

I in chaos, 202, 228
I Liver, and divination, 286
Lungs :

as buffer for heart, 283
1 receptacle of drink, 284

Marrow, 293

Materialism, described in Laws x,
167

Melting, 249

Mercury and Venus, ‘ Contrary
power ' of, 106
Metals, 248 ff.

Mirror images, 154 ff.

Model of Universe, 22, 27

the Ideal Living Creature, 39
Mother, not a parent, 187
Motion requires heterogeneity, 239
Music of heavens, 72
Myth, as applied to Timaeus, 31

Nails, 301
Nassa, 309
Necessity, 159 ff.

persuaded by Reason, 163
not = natural law, 164
not = unexplained fact, 165
associated with Chance, 165
= the indeterminate (Grote),
171

hypothetical, 173
of concomitant or incompatible
properties, 175, 297
as Destiny in Homer, 361
Nile, setting free of, 15, 365

374

INDEX

Odours, 272

oyxoQ, meaning * cube ’ (?), 46 ff.
Omnipotence, not a Greek idea,

165

Philistion, classification of dis-
eases, 333

Phlegm, a morbid product, 337
Physics :

nature and scope of, 21 ff.
a likely story, 23, 28 ff.

Planets :
circles of, 78
double motion of, 78
contrary motion of some, 80 ff.
voluntary self-motion of, 87,
107

move in circles {Laws 821), 89
instruments of Time, 105 ff.
individual souls of, 108
Atomists’ theory of ‘ leaving
behind ’,113
Plants, 302

Pleasure and Pain, 266 ff.

Primary bodies :
figures of, 210 ff.
transformation of, 224 fp
grades of size, 230 ff.
changes of volume, 245
regions of, 246, 265
varieties and compounds of,
246 ff.

Projectiles, 315 ff.
ipvxtf, in Homer, 284

Qualities, 180

theory of, in Theaetetus, 204
tactile, 258

Reason in World-Soul, 38 f.
Receptacle of Becoming, 177 ff.
Rectilinear motion irrational, 56
Regimen better than drugs, 349 ff .
Republic, independent of Timaeus
trilogy, 4

Respiration, 306 ff .
Retrogradation, 80
of five planets, no ff.

Rotation the rational movement,
55 IJ9

Rough and Smooth, 264

Same, circle of, 72 ff.

symbol of rational understand-
ing, 95

in human soul, 148
Sameness, three kinds of, 60 ff.
Seed, 293

Seneca on veins in Earth, 331
Sex, differentiation of, 291, 355
Sinew, 297
Skin, 299
Sleep, 153

Solon, in Egypt, 13 ff.

Sophist, on Existence, Sameness,
Difference, 61
Soul, human :

immortal part made by Demi-
urge, 142

sown in Earth and planets,
146

condition in infancy, 147
immortal part in head, 150
mortal parts, 281 ff.
appetitive part in belly, 286
disorders of, due to body, 343
disproportioned to body, 349
care of, 352 ff.
divine part as root, 353
Sounds, 275, 321
Space, described, 192
a pre-existing factor, 193
as room where things are, 200
Spheres, celestial, in Aristotle, 87
Spindle of Necessity :
a model, 75

exhibits counter-revolution of
outer planets, 88

Spiral Twist of planets' motions,
114

Spleen, 289

Statesman, Myth in, 206
Sun :

has actual movement of Differ-
ent, 83

as generator of life, 141

375

INDEX

Tastes, 269
Tetractys, 69

Thucydides, belief in Fortune, 170
Homer, 284
Timaeus, 2
Timaeus :
date, 1

dramatic date, 5

Timaeus Locrus, On the Soul of the
World , 3
Time, 97 ff.

not a pre-existing condition, 102
conceived as circular, 103
Transmigration, 144
Transpiration through skin pores,
306

Veins, two principal, 304
Venus and Mercury, ' contrary
power ' of, 106

Vision, mechanism of, 151

j Weight, 262 ff.

Winnowing-basket, 201
1 Worlds

plurality of, 41 ff.
in Atomism, 53
possible five worlds,
World-Soul, 57 ff.

penetrating the whole, 58, 93
prior to body, 58
composition of, 59 ff.
harmony of, 66 ff.
circles in, 72 ff.
discourse in, 94
irrational element in, 176
I — motions in, 205

Zodiac, 73

376

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E. Claparkde. ios. 6d. net.

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' A book of great interest to any intelligent reader.' — Sunday Times.

* This stimulating essay on primitive jurisprudence.' — Nature.

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Thought and the Brain. By Henri Pieron , Professor at the
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The Psychology of Character. By. A. A. Roback, Ph.D.
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Political Pluralism : a Study in Modem Political Theory. By
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Judgment and Reasoning in the Child. By Jean Piaget ,
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‘ This is an essay in philosophy, remarkably well written and attractive.
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The Child’s Conception of the World. By Jean Piaget,
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The Trauma of Birth. By Otto Rank. 10s. 6d. net.

4 His thesis asserts that the neurotic patient is still shrinking from the pain
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14 International Library of Psychology

Biological Principles. By J. H. Woodger , B.Sc., Reader in
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Principles of Experimental Psychology. By H. Pieron ,
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The Statistical Method in Economics and Political Science.
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Human Speech. By Sir Richard Paget t Bt., F.Inst.P. With
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1 There is a unique fascination about a really original piece of research. The
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The Foundations of Geometry and Induction. By Jean
Nicod. Introduction by Bertrand Russell , F.R.S. 16s. net.

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Pleasure and Instinct : a Study in the Psychology of Human
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comes like the deep note of some ancient temple bell.’ — Times Literary
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Five Types of Ethical Theory. By C. D. Broad, Litt.D.,
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The Mental Development of the Child. By Karl Biihler,
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"He summarizes in a masterly way all that we have really learned so far
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The Child’s Conception of Physical Causality. By Jean
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4 Develops further his valuable work. Here he endeavours to arrive at
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Integrative Psychology : a Study of Unit Response. By
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4 Here is a daring attempt to explain personality in terms of physiology
It might seem that in such an attempt the authors must have slighted
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Eidetic Imagery, and the Typological Method. By E. R.

Jaensch , Professor in the University of Marburg. 7s. 6d. net.

4 While the work of Professor Jaensch is well-known to psychologists and
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work on these fascinating topics.' — Lancet.

The Laws of Feeling. By F . Paulhan. Translated by C. K.
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4 It is strange that so important a contribution to our knowledge of feeling
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16 International Library of Psychology

The Psychology of Intelligence and Will. By H. G. Wyatt .
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‘ Its value lies, not merely in the analysis of volitional consciousness and the
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The Philosophy of the Unconscious. By E. von Hartmann.
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The Psychology of Men of Genius. By E . Kretschmer ,
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‘ We are grateful for a deeply interesting and illuminating survey of the
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The Primitive Mind and Modern Civilization. By

C. R . Aldrich . Introduction by B. Malinowski , Professor of
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The Psychology of Children’s Drawings, from theFirst Stroke
to the Coloured Drawing. By Helga Eng. With 8 coloured
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4 The first part of the book is data, the detailed description of a single child’s
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The Theory of Legislation. By Jeremy Bentham. Edited, with
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Emphatically a book that every political student should possess and keep
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‘ A graphic and frank account of the amazing doings of the baboons he
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The Development of the Sexual Impulses. By R. E. Money -
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4 Dr. Money-Kyrle has developed his theme with exceptional insight and
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Constitution-Types in Delinquency. By W. A. Willemse.
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4 A valuable book which students of delinquency cannot afford to ignore.'
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4 His very interesting and suggestive book. He takes certain passages
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18 International Library of Psychology

The Sciences of Man in the Making. By Professor E. A.
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The Psychology of Consciousness. By C. Daly King.
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The Psychology of Animals, in Relation to Human Psychology.

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4 May be thoroughly recommended as a clear and simple introduction to
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The Gestalt Theory, and the Problem of Configuration.

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Ethical Relativity. By E. A. Westermarck, Ph.D., Hon. LL.D.,
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The Spirit of Language in Civilization. By K. Vossler.
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The Moral Judgment of the Child. By Jean Piaget, Professor
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‘ In this, the most brilliant and persuasive of Professor Piaget's studies of
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‘ A stimulating review of recent investigation into the physiology of psycho-
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International Library of Psychology 19

The Dynamics of Education. By Hilda Taba . Introduction

by W. H. Kilpatrick, Professor at Columbia University. 10s. 6d.
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4 Where she emphasizes the importance of group action, the book is of
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The Individual and the Community. By Wen Kwei Liao,
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4 His subject is the contrast of legalism and moraiism. . . . Particularly

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Crime, Law, and Social Science. By Jerome Michael,
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4 The book is important, not only on account of its erudition, but because
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Dynamic Social Research. By John J. Hader and Eduard C.
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4 There is much to admire in this difficult but fearlessly painstaking piece of
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Speech Disorders: a Psychological Study. By Sara Stinchfi eld ,
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4 Has done good service in showing that the relationship between brain
structure and mental life is not so inexplicable as many psychologists
would have us believe." — Times Literary Supplement.

Plato’s Theory of Knowledge : the Theaetetus and the Sophist
of Plato, translated with a Running Commentary by F. M.
Cornford, Laurence Professor of Ancient Philosophy in the
University of Cambridge. 15s. net.

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based on a wide scholarship everywhere apparent. This thorough and
illuminating translation and commentary may be warmly recommended to
students of philosophy and to scholars.' — Journal of Education.

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Principles of Gestalt Psychology. By K. Koffka. 25s. net.

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to know what Gestalt psychology is about, this is obviously the book for
him/ — New Statesman.

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M. M. Lewis , M.A., Ph.D. 12s. 6d. net.

' A very learned, elaborate and comprehensive study of infant speech as
it bears on the actual nature of speech generally and on the development
of language in childhood, will be invaluable to students.’ — New Statesman.

Ideology and Utopia : an Introduction to the Sociology of
Knowledge. By Karl Mannheim. 15s. net.

An analysis of the social currents and situations of our time as they bear
upon thought, belief, and action, which offers a much-needed clarification
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An Examination of Logical Positivism. By Julius R. Wein-
berg. 12s. 6d. net.

Gives a detailed and critical account of one of the most important move-
ments in modern philosophy, from Wittgenstein to its latest developments
in the Vienna Circle.

Logical Syntax of Language. By Rudolph Carnap . 25s. net.

The German original of this book is recognized as one of the outstanding
contributions to the new logic. Valuable additions give the translation
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TO FOLLOW LATER

Psychological Optics .

The Theory of Hearing
Emotional Expression in Birds
The Mind as an Organism
Animal Behaviour
The Psychology of Insects
Colour-Harmony . . . C.

Language as Symbol and as Expression
Psychology of Kinship
Social Biology .....
The Philosophy of Law
The Psychology of Mathematics
Mathematics for Philosophers
The Psychology of Myths .

The Psychology of Music
Psychology of Primitive Peoples
Development of Chinese Thoug'

D. Me. L. Purdy
H . Hartridge, D.Sc .
F. B. Kirkman
E. Miller
H . Munro Fox
J . G. Myers
K. Ogden and James Wood
E. Sapir
. B. Malinowski , D.Sc .
M. Ginsberg, D.Lit .
A.L.Goodhart
E. R. Hamilton
G. H. Hardy, F.R.S .
Sir Grafton Elliot Smith.

Edward J. Dent
. B. Malinowski , D.Sc.

Hu Shik

HEADLEY BROTHERS, IOO Kl

[> ASHFORD, KENT

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